Small-Town Girl in the Big Big World

Judgment Day at Hand (?)

2011-05-20T16:01:00.000-07:00

For the past 3 years, I’ve heard people say that Obama is the anti-Christ. Who knows.

But then again, the same could be said about Fidel Castro, Osama bin Laden (except for the minor, inconvenient detail that was killed recently), Kim Jong-il, Hitler, Stalin, Saddam Hussein, and multiple other dictators and oppressors who have spread their reigns of destruction, fear, and power over the planet in the past few millennia.

With everyone talking about the supposed upcoming Rapture event happening tomorrow at 6pm, it’s easy to scoff at the idea and pass it off as the crazies of the world going at it again. But once I look past all of the hype and illogical rationalization of some people who honestly believe that Jesus Christ is returning tomorrow, it really does make me stop and think about my own relationship with God. Would I be taken with the believers? I pray so. I certainly don’t deserve it – only God’s mercy, love, and grace have gotten me to where I am today. Do I show the amount of appreciation and devotion that God rightfully deserves for blessing me with such a wonderful life? I’m ashamed to say I don’t. Do I wish that I was closer to God? Absolutely – but I believe that every relationship is a changing, evolving thing that has its ups and downs, and they all take work. In this case, the work is completely on my part, because unlike God and Jesus, I’m not perfect (FAR from it). But I also believe that God made us to be imperfect beings, and understands that I try to do the best I can. I’m going to stumble and fall, make mistakes, and sometimes lose my way.

The idea of being “left behind” for whatever rapture may or may not happen tomorrow is nothing less than terrifying. I’ve read the book of Revelation, and trust me, it won’t be a picnic to experience. My biggest fear is that someday, my soul will end up in Hell (or at least a long-ass time in Purgatory), but I put 100% of my faith and trust in God and His plan that he’ll see me through.

While I’m sure that Mr. Camping whole-heartedly believes that his prediction is true (and has managed to convince thousands to cash in their life savings to spread their prophetic doom), there is one looming fact that seems to have escaped him. I’m no good at memorizing Bible verses, but there are a couple verses that I remember that contradict this prediction (I actually had to look these up to be sure): Matthew 24:36, “But of that day and hour no one knows, not even the angels of heaven, nor the Son, but the Father alone,” and Acts 1:7, “He said to them: ‘It is not for you to know the times or dates the Father has set by his own Authority.” To me, this means that mere mortals aren’t supposed to know, in fact, can’t know, when Jesus will return. So if a sizable group of people all over the globe are anxiously awaiting a certain hour, doesn’t that seem to go against what the Bible is saying? (no room for interpretation there, it’s pretty black and white in its meaning).

Perhaps the real “event” here is to try to get us to think about our own mortality, and our own relationship with God. While I fully believe in God and His Catholic church, I highly doubt that the world will end tomorrow. But, in any case, no matter what happens, this has been a friendly reminder that Jesus WILL return someday, and I had better be ready. Why not be ready now, or even yesterday? Gotta go home and crack open that Bible and keep reading, learning, loving, praying, and hoping.

day 2

2011-04-18T15:22:00.000-07:00

A picture of yourself and the person closest to you:

I'm quite a fortunate gal: In addition to having the best family anyone could ever ask for, the world's most awesome friends, an incredible boyfriend, stable job, good health, and general happiness, I'm lucky enough to say that my sister is my best friend. I know plenty of people who can't stand their siblings, and the only interaction they might have with said sibling in the course of the year is the obligatory hug at Christmas, and maybe a, "Hey, can you move your car so we can get ours out?" Depending on her work schedule, I talk to K multiple times a week, sometimes for over an hour. I can tell her anything - my accomplishments, my frustrations, my questions about anything, or just when I'm bored and need someone to talk to. We were never really close growing up - I was always the annoying little sister who copied everything the big sister did, which drove K nuts. Then, we entered the stage of fighting over every single little thing. Once she went to college, I realized that I actually missed her. Mostly, because with her out of the house, my parents were able to focus most of their attention on me, but as time went on, we actually became friends. I was the maid of honor at her wedding, I was there when she gave birth to her daughter, and I was immensely honored when she and Generic asked me to be godmother to little Nuggette. I love you, K. Thanks for everything!

New Challenge

2011-04-15T15:09:00.000-07:00

Apparently, it's been almost a month since I last wrote something on this little blog. And apparently, the 30 Day Challenge has turned into almost a 90 day challenge....Fail. The thing is, I never really liked the themes for the other challenge - a little too narcistic for my tastes. Therefore, I found one that I think will work out a little better for my tastes, so let's start this again, shall we? Day 1: A picture of yourself with 10 facts.

1. I am allergic to mosquito bites. Whenever I get bit (by any bug, really) I tend to itch it without thinking, especially in my sleep. Which then causes the site to get swollen like a golf ball, and then bruise to a nice deep purple-ish color. Try accessorizing with huge purple welts all over you. ( My record for mosquito bites was in Mexico. I had over 20 bites on one leg, and I believe that I counted over 50 total. I kid you not, I actually counted.)

2. I’m Catholic to the core. Enough said.

3. One of my many useful talents is the ability to sing along word-for-word with Charlie Daniels’ “The Devil Went Down to Georgia” and Sir-Mix-A-Lot’s “Baby Got Back.”

4. Pet peeves: dirty dishes in the sink, people driving under the speed limit, indecisiveness, and walking in a locker room/public area with tile without any shoes on.

5. I don’t drink regular soda. I grew up on Diet, and the aspartame has taken up permanent residence in my bloodstream.

6. I believe that chocolate can solve most of society’s ills.

7. If it’s a good book, I can read it over and over and not get tired of it.

8. Favorite forms of stress relief: a glass of wine, doing a sinkful of dirty dishes, or baking something.

9. I will never fail to freak out any time I see a spider, and I’m not against calling someone from the other room to kill it for me.

10. I’d love to own a Jeep Wrangler someday, either a deep red or black.

day 14

2011-03-18T12:18:00.000-07:00

a photo of one of your favorite family members:

well, obviously, it's impossible to pick a favorite family member. but, in light of recent events, i'm going to have to pick my grandma:

growing up, she's the one who taught me to bake, so that was a major contribution to my life. until recently, i had lived with her for almost two years, before she passed away a few weeks ago from a bladder infection, which came from complications after radiation for lung cancer. she was immensely loving, God-fearing, beautiful, and stubborn (a trait I'm pretty sure i inherited). in this picture, she's holding Nuggette, who is also her namesake. it's weird living in the house by myself now, but i still think about her and miss her everyday.

on a side note, please ignore whatever the heck it is i'm doing in the background.

rant against today

2011-02-14T12:36:00.001-08:00

Look, normally whenever people start to get on their soapbox about how holiday's are so commercialized, and people celebrate for all the wrong reasons, and we all fall for the societal stereotype, I'm the first person to stand up and tell them to keep their opinions to themselves. Holidays are about celebration, right? People are happy, it's a time of love and joy and goodwill.

I associate 'holidays' with thanksgiving, christmas, easter and new years as the larger holidays. Memorial day, labor day, the 4th of july, halloween, and even st. patrick's day are the second-tier holidays. notice that in neither list do you see VALENTINE'S DAY.

now don't start thinking that the reason i don't like valentine's day is because i'm single - i've disliked the day even when i was in a relationship and got my very own flowers and box of overpriced chocolates. listen, there are 365 days in a year. i know plenty of people who take their loved ones for granted 364 days out of the year, but then buy the obligatory card and roses for their loved ones on february 14, just because the rest of the world told them they should. shouldn't we say 'i love you' and SHOW our loved ones how much they mean to us each and every day?

yes, i bought my family members cards, and i was planning on making heart-shaped cookies for my coworkers (but then ran out of time yesterday and didn't get around to it), so i've fallen for the commercialism of the holiday just as much as the rest of society. but i'm still going to have a deep dislike for the stupid little man with wings and supposed magic arrows and the EXTREMELY overpriced Hallmark card...but i'll still appreciate the chocolate i bought for myself at Trader Joes last night. =]

Brain Dump

2011-01-19T10:36:00.000-08:00

running last night: anyone who knows me already knows that i detest running. i'm a very picky runner - as in, i have to be in the "mood" to run, and am usually able to tell if i'm in this "mood" within 2 minutes of starting to jog. mostly i dislike running because it's so hard on my knees, but honestly....it's just so darn boring. but lo and behold, the other night at the gym i actually ran a mile! which to most doesn't seem like much, but seeing as I haven't touched a treadmill in months, it was quite the accomplishment.

london olympics: summer olympics, 2012. i DESPERATELY want to go. anyone have an extra two grand they'd be willing to give me, as well as a recommendation of a free 5-star hotel in london? let me know!

knitting: my aunt taught me the basic knit and pearl stitches last march, with the intent that i could make a blanket for the Nugget before he/she was due in July. it's almost a year later, and i don't think i've gotten past row 12. i really need to get working on that again.

fashion: my word, i need help. i have some cute clothes, but i need my very own stacy and clinton to tell me how to wear them and what to wear them with. Grace, we're going shopping when you get here!

house of cards: totally random (the theme for this post, if you couldn't already tell), but i was listening to a taylor swift song and she mentioned a 'house of cards', when i realized that i've never built a literal house of cards. i remember there was a brady bunch episode where the kids had a card-house-building competition, and i vowed right then and there i would build my own someday. i think i was about 10 when i made that promise. i should honestly cross that off my bucket list.

healthy living: i've finally reached the point in my never-ending weight battle, and decided that ENOUGH IS ENOUGH: i'm finally going to lose this weight once and for all! i lost 15 lbs. in college after doing the nutrisystem plan, and kept it off for about a year and a half. but then when Nuggette was born in July, i didn't go to the gym for about a month - just burnt out, i suppose. then there were the good old American (read: fattening) summer BBQs, halloween candy, thanksgiving, christmas cookies, etc. and now that it's the new year, i have no more excuses, no more holidays, and honestly need to focus on my health. which means back to my old routine of going to the gym a MINIMUM of four times per week (hopefully 5-6), eating rabbit food and lots of soup, lean protein, yadda yadda yadda. basically torturing myself until i'm back down to my old weight. oh the fun never stops around here!

day 13

2011-01-18T12:37:00.000-08:00

a photo of your best friends:

Shawtz and Polly

Grace

CKN

(haha looks like an abbreviation for chicken)

day 12

2011-01-17T11:52:00.000-08:00

a photo of you:

today's theme seems to be without any kind of specific requirement, and wait a sec, didn't we do this one already??? fine, i'm going to deviate away from the assignment and make up my own.

DAY 12 - a photo of your pet.

i've already written a story about how Sadie came to be a member of our family here. nowadays, she's moving a little bit slower from arthritis, but is still a young puppy at heart, even at the age of 14 1/2. i can't imagine a better dog.

then there's this little mutt-face. soon after getting married in the summer of 2009, my sister and her husband decided they wanted a puppy. after spending hours upon hours scouring pet adoption sites, they found what they were looking for: a 6-month old black lab puppy named Trudie. well the great thing about pets that isn't necessarily true for humans is that you can change the animals name on a whim and the world will keep spinning. anyway, they had decided on the name Laney Lou for this puppy. isn't she adorable? the even better part is that there are still times when i need a puppy fix, and this adorable creature continues to barrel me over whenever i pull in their driveway for all the puppy-lovin' i can get.

day 11

2011-01-14T14:12:00.000-08:00

a photo from your favorite film:

oooohhh, close tie. basically the same plot/movie, but one is definitely updated for our times. the kiera knightly/matthew macfadyen is waaay more romantic, and my go-to movie when i'm in a sappy chick flick kind of mood. Bridget Jones carries more of the cynical plot, and is the best medicine when i'm in a "i'm-single-and-thats-okay-because-i-don't-need-a-man-just-a-good-love-story" kind of mood.

P&P favorite line:

Mr. Darcy: "You must know...surely, you must know it was all for you. You are too generous to trifle with me. I believe you spoke with my aunt last night, and it has taught me to hope as I'd scarcely allowed myself before. If your feelings are still what they were last April, tell me so at once. My affections and wishes have not changed, but one word from you will silence me forever. If, however, your feelings have changed, I will have to tell you: you have bewitched me, body and soul, and I love, I love, I love you. I never wish to be parted from you from this day on.

-SWOON-

Bridget Jones favorite line:

Mr. Darcy: " I don't think you're an idiot at all. I mean, there are elements of the rediculous about you. Your mother's pretty interesting. And you really are an appallingly bad public speaker. And, um, you tend to let whatever's in your head come out of your mouth without much consideration of the consequences... But the thing is, um, what I'm trying to say, very inarticulately, is that, um, in fact, perhaps despite appearances, I like you, very much. Just as you are.

or is it just the British accents that make me swoon and vow to move to England at the earliest possible opportunity?

day 10

2011-01-10T15:58:00.000-08:00

a picture of you as a baby:
(or not quite a 'baby', but still dang little!)

obviously i look nothing like i did as a baby. blonde, shirley-temple-curly hair, slate blue eyes, and an ever-present high-pitched squeal? not so much. funny how genetics and time work out. but anyway, here's the family again in all its early-90s fabulous glory:

can we just take a moment to admire a few things here?

- despite his salt-n-pepper hair color, my dad was probably 32 or 33 in this picture. everyone on my dad's side of the family starts going grey around age 18. you're jealous, right?

-POWDER BLUE DINNER JACKET. with a pink tie? honestly, dad.

-my mom's fantastic hairstyle. actually not bad considering the time period, but still probably the shortest i've ever seen it. (love you, mom!)

-from the time i was born until about age 11, my sister and i wore matching or at least coordinating outfits, until we had a united rebellion against my mom's dress choices. freedom form bows, lace, and pink synthetic fabrics forever!

day 9

2011-01-10T15:21:00.000-08:00

day 9: a picture of your family

well, since i used my newest favorite family photo in day 7 (i think), i don't want to use the same picture twice. here's a family shot from last year:

dad, mom, me, K, Generic

ok, so this photo was taken last year at thanksgiving. unbeknownst to us, my sister K (red sweater) was already about 2 months pregnant with the Nuggette AND LIED TO OUR FACES ABOUT IT, THE LITTLE BUGGER. so the rest of us, thinking everything was fine and dandy, let her go on a quad ride, and kept refilling her wine glass at dinner (thanks dad) only to be sneakily drunk by my brother-in-law Generic (far right). right before this photo was taken, K hissed, "Hide my stomach!" because she already had a little bit of a baby bump. the little buttheads. all was forgiven, though, once this gorgeous little Nuggette was born:

what. a. CUTIE!!!

day 8

2011-01-06T16:19:00.000-08:00

a picture of your favorite band/musician:

love her love her love her. she has great music, an incredible voice, and still made sure to finish college after becoming famous. you can also bet that i voted for her on American Idol, too.

(current) Favorite Song: Cowboy Cassanova

yet again, i've fallen off the bandwagon

2011-01-06T16:10:00.000-08:00

ok, so i really did get off to a good start with the 30-day-challenge thing. buuut, then i was getting ready for christmas. and then my whole family came over for christmas. and then we were all busy stuffing our faces full of holiday goodies (or was that just me?). and then i went to seattle for new years. and then i got home and had a whole lot of stuff hit me all at once, SO I'VE BEEN A BIT BUSY. anyway, i WILL finish this!

day 7

2010-12-13T13:24:00.000-08:00

A photo of someone you love:

I love lots o' people. My family, first and foremost, and my friends, of course, so it's almost impossible to pick just one. So let's include the really important ones first:

and these fools fo sho....

day 6

2010-12-10T10:04:00.000-08:00

A photo that makes you laugh:

During my first summer in southern Oregon, I was lucky enough to get hired at the local movie theater. Lets just say that even though we were required to "work", that rarely happened. More often than not, we'd goof off for hours on end, as exemplified in this photo. The Good Old Days for sure.

day 5

2010-12-04T13:54:00.000-08:00

Day 5: A photo of you

This pic is about 5 years old (seriously!?!? time flies), but I still love it. Mol was my sophomore year roommate, and probably the best one I ever had. This was from the day where we decided we needed a break from studying for finals, so a group of us went to the park near campus to play on the playground equipment like little kids. Our friend Mae took this pic while on the merry-go-ride, where I remember I was starting to get so dizzy I thought I was going to get sick. Ah the days of being footloose and fancy free....except for those pesky classes.

day 4

2010-12-04T13:51:00.001-08:00

A Photo of the last place you went on holiday:

Just a month ago, I surprised Grace (far left) for her birthday by flying back to Philly for 4 days. We spent 2 days in Philly, and then drove to DC to spend another few days exploring the Capitol. I love these people - I practically lived with them my last year in college, and whenever we get back together, it seems like no time has passed at all. They're some of the best, funniest, kindest people I know.
(not sure if you can tell in the photo, but I was silently suffering from one of the world's worst head colds that i caught, of course, on the plane ride OVER and decided to manifest its wrath on the day before i left. figures)

day 3

2010-12-04T13:37:00.000-08:00

Day 3: a photo that makes you happy

This was taken on my sister K's wedding day a year and a half ago. The photographer had told her to make a "sexy" face, and K's attempt made me crack up. I was so touched that she asked me to be her MOH, and I love how close we are. It was truly the perfect day.

day 2

2010-12-04T13:30:00.000-08:00

Day 2: A photo of yourself from a year ago.

well, this was taken a little less than a year ago, but who cares. Last year I decided that making smart decisions was overrated, and hopped on a plane to Philadelphia and meet my college friends/roommates to head up to New York City for New Years Eve in Times Square. The day after, we explored as much of the city as our caffeine levels and sleep-deprived bodies would let us, and one of our last stops was Rockefeller Center. I came home a few days later so tired I was almost sick, but it was totally worth it. Bragging rights for LIFE.

30-day photo challenge: day 1

2010-12-04T13:21:00.000-08:00

Another attempt to try and get back into the blogging mode. And yes, I stole this from another blog, as I am apparently apt to do, but I have nothing else to write about, except for the fact that I'm currently watching the Civil War (GO BEAVS!!!) and am hoping for a miracle.

Anyway.

Day 1: Your Facebook Photo

Ever since Nuggette was born, my mom has been all about the family photos. So on the rare occasions when we're all together, we get dressed up [the baby having about 4 times the amount of outfit changes that we do] and take a million photos. Thank goodness for digital. This picture was taken last weekend after we celebrated Thanksgiving. Is that baby not the cutest thing you've ever seen???

Hopefully a Jump Start

2010-12-03T12:19:00.000-08:00

You know, sometimes I wish that Gooogle/Blogger weren't so on top of things, and that way I wouldn't feel so guilty by the wonderful little stat tool that has told me I haven't posted anything since August 10. Almost 4 months ago. Oops. In my defense, though, life has been pretty busy (I know, I know, that's what everyone says), work (where I do a lot of writing/editing anyway) has been busy, too, and besides, it seems like I have nothing of interest to post about. I've been trying to think of SOMETHING that would help me out of this rut known as writers block (i.e. laziness), and I think I found it when I was reading through one of my favorite blogs, the Busy Dad Blog and found a survey of sorts. Since something like this involves no creativity on my part to come up with a story, it seemed like the jump-start I need to get back into the blogging practice. So here goes:

Eight Things I am Passionate About

My faith - I know that there's no way on God's green earth that I'd be where I am today if it weren't for my faith. God has a plan for me. I just have to have the patience and faith to find out what it is each and every day.
My family - blood is always thicker than water.
My friends - dude, my friends rock. Nuff said.
My niece - my goodness, that little girl is going to be the death of me. At only 5 months old, she has already wormed her way into my heart in a way that I never even imagined, and it's going to be an interesting struggle with will power on the first day or occasion where I have to tell her "No." Heaven help us on THAT day. I mean, seriously, will you just look at this face?

Photography - in the past few years, I've somehow developed a real interest in photography. So I bought a fancy new camera, and have become known as a bit of a camera fanatic whenever it comes to group gatherings. "Wait! Don't move! Dang it, she blinked. Ok, one more! Fine, everyone can move now. Carry on." The best part is that now my sister is a mom, she bought an even nicer camera, which I now play with at any given opportunity. All for the sake of learning and avoiding "professional" photo places at the mall.
Cooking/Baking - as all my family, friends, and coworkers know, my main passion is for baking. Cookies, pies, scones, cakes, I'll try and tackle any recipe. Only problem is that if I keep that kind of stuff in my house, inevitably it gets eaten by yours truly. The only solution is to load it off onto my surrouding friends and coworkers. Hey, sharing is caring!
Reading - riding the bus nearly every day has opened up a whole world of time for leisure reading. Something I hadn't experienced in the 3.5 years I was in college. Now, I get to read whatever I want to read, and don't give a damn if it's something stupid, chick lit, or completely pointless.
Traveling - Once you get bitten by the travel bug, it's hard to forget about it. Last year's trip to NYC for New Years and this year's trip to Philly/DC for Grace's birthday are 2 things off the Bucket List, but now I'm dying to go to London for the Opening Ceremony of the 2012 Summer Olympics. [Cheap] tickets start at like $35....

Eight Things I Want To Do Before I Die

Karaoke. I've always wanted to, but never been able to work up the guts to do it.
Be a Mom. Right now, I'm having a blast with baby-sitting the Nuggette whenever I want, but let's just say that it also serves a dual purpose as amazing birth control. I want to have kids, someday, when I have a husband to help out and a career that makes me more financially stable.
Two words: SPA. DAY.
Learn another language - for real this time. I took Spanish classes for 3 years in high school, almost 3 years in college, and studied abroad in Spain for 5 weeks. After all that, I was fairly decent at it. By no means was I fluent, but I could understand most of what was being said to me, and could respond in some way. Now I just catch bits and pieces, and give a blank stare in response. It'd be awesome to be fluent.
Own a really fun, impractical car. I just bought a new Ford Escape (the first car I've ever purchased!) that is a sweet ride, but at times it just screams "MOMMOBILE" as I bought it in mind of the car seats, toys, sleeping bags, soccer balls, cracker crumbs, dog muzzle smears, and backpacks that would (hopefully) fill the backseat at some point. My dream car is something like a Jeep Wrangler. Black. Softtop. Beautiful.
Get published. I like to write, and at times come up with something that I like to think isn't half bad, but don't think at this point I could ever write AND complete something good enough to get published professionally.
Learn how to garden, and actually enjoy it. Growing up, we lived on a two acres of landscaped yard, in the middle of the Central Washington desert. Needless to say, keeping everything green, weed-free, and trimmed gave me a deep dislike for yardwork and gardening. I'd love to be that little old lady someday with all the would-be prize-winning roses in her yard. Hey, it beats being the little old crazy cat lady by far.
Still figuring this one out.

Eight Things I Say Often

"Hello, [name of workplace], how may I help you?"
Happy Hour? Yes, please.
Why is it that I have no food?!
Do I really want to go to the gym today?
Aw, crap!
Where’s the coffee?!
Again!? Fine, I'll call IS...hello, Scotty?
Oops.

Eight Books I’ve Recently Read

Eat Pray Love: Saw the movie first, am now reading the book. It's pretty good so far.
Are You There, Vodka? It's Me, Chelsea. Heard it was good, and thought I'd see for myself. Being a comedian, I thought her writing would be funnier, but maybe our senses of humor just aren't the same.
Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows: Duh.
Rekindled: a historial ficion Christian book about the Colorado Territory by Tamera Alexander. She writes some great stuff.
The Kitchen Boy by Robert Alexander: Scary. I love Romanov-era Russian history, and this fictional tale of the Romanov's final days in Ekaterinberg left me on the edge of my [bus] seat.
Hand Hand Fingers Thumb: One of Nuggette's favorite books. I'm sure it has nothing to do with Generic tapping out drumb beats on K's stomach during her prenancy.
Digital Fortress: Not Dan Brown's best, in my opinion, but still a thriller.
The Bible: Save the best for last.

Eight Songs That I Could Listen To Over And Over

Love Story - Taylor Swift
Don't Stop Believin' - Journey
Haven't Met You Yet - Michael Buble
Friends in Low Places - Garth Brooks
Love Like Crazy - Lee Brice
Saturday in the Park - Chicago
My Little Girl - Tim McGraw

Eight Things That Attract Me To My Best Friends

They crack me up
They’re good hearted
They “get” me
They tell me like it is
They’ll pressure me when I need to be pushed, but leave me alone when I need some space.
They're up for anything
They truly care
There's no such thing as an unfinished bottle of wine when we get together.

Eight Things I Have Learned This Past Year

Make sure you have a key to BOTH door locks before locking up and leaving the house.
Everything happens for a reason.
How to ride the PDX Bus system.
When making a caramel-pumpkin-gingersnap cheesecake, remember the line the bottom of the springform pan to avoid scraping burnt caramel off the bottom of the hot oven.
Not everything you buy at the Dollar Store is as good as the name brand stuff.
Sometimes it pays to take that extra leap of faith.
When the sign says 30 mph, they mean it.
Health Insurance is a necessary evil.

My Weaknesses

2010-08-10T11:01:00.000-07:00

Puppies.
Nuggette.
Leftover chocolate.
Facebook.
The Williams-Sonoma Catalogue.

and Amazon.com.

Don't get me wrong, places like Target and White HouseBlack Market make my skirt fly up, too. But you can buy anything on Amazon! Christmas present for Dad [Wine areator]? Amazon.com. Work's external hard drives for the office? Amazon.com. My new camera? Amazon.com.

All of this with the option of free shipping on orders more than $25? you betcha that's Amazon.com.

This sounds like a really bad paid advertisement (I don't make a dime, unfortuantely). But honestly, lately I've been on a kick making my own convenience foods at home. Homemade peanut butter, cornmeal parmesan crackers, butter, and fresh mozarella cheese, that kind of thing. Most of the ingredients I can find in the bulk foods section at WinCo, but rennet and citric acid for making cheese aren't located on Aisle 5. But a quick check on Amazon let me purchase them for less than $5!

I can get lost on that site for hours, unfortunately. Whether I'm looking for a baptism gift for my niece or looking at reviews, price comparisons, or even gift ideas, it's my drug of choice.

Needless to say, my credit card is well aquainted with their billing department. All for the sake of stimulating the economy, right?

Judging

2010-08-09T15:24:00.001-07:00

Sup?

You did what?

With who?For how many cookies??!?!?!?

Tough Toons

2010-08-04T08:56:00.000-07:00

Tough, but pretty darn accurate:

brother, can you spare a dime?

2010-07-29T15:37:00.001-07:00

I'm lookin' for some change.

Which is odd, because normally I'm the person who sticks with tradition. If the world ran things according to my comfort zone, we would still be using the old 5, 10, and 20-dollar bills, the nation never would have switched to this digital TV thing (thus rendering my favorite old bunny ear antena useless), and Facebook would have stayed with it's original design and layout.

(We'd probably still be under the rule of England, too, but let's look at the smaller picture.)

In short, being stubborn and a fan of routine rarely allows me to leave my comfort zone.

I can't believe I've been out of college for almost 2 years now. That makes me something that the rest of the world considers an adult, but I'm still stumbling around wondering how I went from a carefree college student worrying about finals and which dance club we would frequent that weekend, to this person whose conversations with friends now include terms like "mortgage," "bills," and "interest rates." -shudder-

Basically, I'm now this boring adult who bases decisions what is considered the responsible action, rather than doing things for myself, at the spur of the moment, or out of pure stupidity or ignorance or simple carefree bliss.

But isn't that what being in your 20s is about? Doing things because you can blame them on the decade of your life where you're allowed to blame it on your age, and people will simply nod their heads, understand, and then tell a story about their own decade of stupidity? I have at least 7 more years before I really need to think about getting a car that will accomodate a dog, carseat, and at least 4 other soccer team children, rather than getting the Jeep I'd truly love and enjoy. I have at least 5 more years before I need to consider which kind of washer/dryer combo would work best at each price point. And I have at least 2 more months to go out and enjoy my sunshine-filled weekends before summer is officially over and I go back to the doom and gloom of a Portland winter.

The pure pressure of it all can be so daunting at times! Knowing what I should be doing as a responsible adult, and then knowing what I truly want to do, simply because I can. I'm not tied down in any way except for my job and a few family obligations, so isn't now the time to take the time to just go somewhere? Take a trip, take chances, and enjoy the simple thrill of it all?

I'm trying to step outside my confining bonds and think about what else I can do in and with my life before it's too late. I'm thinking either dying my hair blonde or researching an internship position in London. I've always wondered how I'd look with blonde hair, and I've been dreaming about living in London since I was 6 (I think it stems from wanting to live in a land where princesses actually exist!). The little voice in the back of my head is telling me to save my hair folicles and keep my hair at its dark brown mahogany color, but I was blonde as a kid, so why not again now? Another little voice is telling me to save my money for a house I'd like to buy someday, invest the money into my retirement, or just put it in a rainy day fund.

But living in Portland, I've learned that sometimes, you have to accept the fact that today might be your rainy day.

sometimes it takes a million tries to get the million-dollar shot

2010-07-26T12:44:00.000-07:00

Which I proved last week when playing with my niece and my new camera.

Case in point:

Awww, I love this picture. Just chillin'. And quite the fashionista.

Nugget is officially Nugg-ETTE!

2010-07-08T14:58:00.000-07:00

It is my pleasure to introduce to you my beautiful brand-spankin'-new niece:

Maria "Mia" Rose Lundeen

Born July 3, 2010, 7:54 pm

8 lbs., 1.7 oz.

20 inches long

She has her mom's nose, dad's shaped head, MY dad's chin, and 3 aunts who are planning to spoil her rotton.

Tis the Season for Chicken Pox

2010-06-29T09:32:00.000-07:00

Fortunately, that ship sailed through my life about 20 years ago.

And after re-reading that, I feel incredibly old, as I now have the legit ability to reminice about events that happened almost a quarter-century ago.

Questioning my own mortality: just the way I wanted to start my Tuesday morning.

My manager came in this morning, and gave the lovely news that her adorable 2 year old daughter was exposed to the chicken pox this weekend (by a 4 year old granola child, who has chest-length blonde hair and wears dresses...and is a boy. Um, okay.) Now my manager is wondering if she's going to have a spotty, itchy, miserable daughter in about a week. As an individual who has suffered through the chicken pox not once, but twice in my lifetime, I can totally feel her pain.

And don't tell me that "you can't get the chicken pox twice!" Let me guarantee you, IT CAN BE DONE.

(My sister, on the other hand, has made it through 26 years of life without getting it even once, after being exposed multiple times. Including the Christmas my cousin had it and my mom did her darndest to expose K - she still didn't get it. Lucky bugger.)

The thing I remember most about having the chicken pox, besides getting yelled at for scratching, are the oatmeal baths. I didn't really understand their significance at the time, but a sock full of mushy oatmeal? BEST. BATHTIME. TOY. EVER. Oh sure, it helped with the itching and all, but frankly, getting to spend an hour at a time in the tub for the sake of my health? It was a dream come true! I'm sure that the experiences were much less fun for my parents, but at least they weren't the ones "suffering."

While I now have a greatly reduced risk of getting the chicken pox as an adult, I just found out that there is a correlation between having chicken pox as a young child, and the odds of getting shingles as an adult. Great - not only did I suffer twice as a kid, but I get higher odds of getting an even more painful virus as an adult?

Thanks, Universe.

Doodles

2010-06-18T15:29:00.000-07:00

...because he taught me to make pancakes as a kid, and that undercooked pancakes drenched in maple syrup rightfully belong on any breakfast plate,

...because he had the patience to teach me how to drive,

...because he would come to watch my volleyball games and spend endless hours every weekend at my volleyball tournaments, cheering me on,

...because he gets annoyed if my mom hangs up the phone after talking to me and he didn't get a chance to talk, too,

...because every time I would mow the lawn, he would go out and check my work. And if I didn't do it right, he'd drag me out to show me the spots I missed and make me do it again. Thereby teaching me work ethic and accountability,

...because he used to buy me donuts when I'd go to work with him on Saturdays,

...because he puts up with 3 females ganging up on him and teasing him mercilessly,

...because he is the calm voice of reason I can turn to in any situation,

...because he lets me borrow his Jeep whenever I go home to visit,

...because he is the best bar-b-que-r in the world, and cooks salmon that will melt in your mouth,

...and because he knows he can bribe me into coming home with promises of said bbq,

...because his hugs make me feel safe,

...because he loves my mom and treats all of us like his princesses,

...because he works so hard to provide the best he can for his family,

...because we share a "secret handshake" that I'll probably make him perform after he walks me down the aisle [someday],

...because he paid for my college education, years of private school tuition, piano lessons, doctor bills, braces, vacations, and sports fees,

...because he is the best man I know,

...he is the best Dad in the world, and I can't imagine a better father.

Happy Father's Day, Dad! I love you (more!)

doom and gloom in the month of june

2010-06-07T14:49:00.000-07:00

-sigh-

Life isn't fair sometimes.

It's June. In my mind, I'm picturing end-of-the-school-year picnics. Squirt guns. Shorts. Air conditioning and/or rotating fans. Lemonade. Green grass. Bike rides.

You get the picture.

But noooooooo. That's not the view from where I'm sitting. I wore my NorthFace jacket to work today, for cryin' out loud. When I see people on the street walking by the summer collection clothing displays at the mall, I see them gaze longingly at the shorts and tank tops, look a the grey, raincloud-filled skies, scoff, and then trudge along to the nearest heated location in their rainboots.

I'm trying to be optimistic, here. I know that most of the state is worried about an impending drought for the summer, so each extra inch of rain helps delay it another day. We're saving money on water since we're not water the lawn and our flower beds. But when you've just lived through the wettest month of May in the past 50-60 years, you know that you have some justification for hating the weather.

'Hate' is a strong word, but totally justified. I'M READY FOR SUMMER, DANG IT!

Car Maintenance? What's that?

2010-05-27T12:34:00.001-07:00

This awesomely hilarious post basically sums up my philosophy on car maintenance (...cough, cough...or lack thereof). Only instead of '911', I use 1-800-CALL-DAD, or my expired AAA membership. And if you replace the parking tickets with Glee soundtrack CD cases and other random crap, you should have a pretty accurate view of my glove box.

A typical conversation with my dad:

Dad: "Kourtney, when was the last time you cleaned the inside of your windows?"
Me: "Um, probably the last time you did them."
Dad: "And the last time you waxed your car? You need to make sure it gets waxed at least once a year to protect the paint."
Me: "DAAAAAAAD, you just did it in July! So I'm planning on waiting until it stops raining/hailing/snowing, and then I'll TOTALLY get to it. Probably around July."
Dad: "Isn't that the next time you're coming home to visit?"
Me: "Well, whadya know, isn't that a coincidence!"
Dad: "And have you checked your oil lately? With all that driving, it's bound to be a little low."
Me: -blank stare-
Dad: "We went over this!! Remember, you're supposed to check your oil every few weeks? Otherwise if the oil level gets too low, then the engine could fail. And you don't want to have to buy a whole new car, do you?"
Me: "Of course not! And I just got my oil checked a few weeks ago!"
Dad: -sigh, checks dipstick thingie- "Kourtney, what's your definition of 'a few'?"
Me: "Either the last time you did or the last time I went to Jiffy Lube....-reading sticker- about 4,800 miles ago! I'm totally FINE!"
Dad: -facepalm-

Retail therapy FAIL

2010-05-19T12:44:00.000-07:00

Well, today during my lunch break, I had all kinds of plans to go on a walk, stop by the library to catch up on my smarts, and maybe even stop by the Goodwill. [Side note: the Goodwill on SW 10th is AH-MAAAAZING. I'm talkin' designer duds here, folks] But the ever-crazy Oregon weather put a damper (hardy har-har) in my plans, and decided a nice springtime storm system would better suit my day. Instead, I'm going to write a post about a whole lotta NOTHING.

Bear with me, here.

Well, I should probably mention that I have a major bone to pick with whoever designs department store dressing rooms. Honestly, flourescent lighting really does a woman NO favors while trying on clothes, and even worse, bathing suits. It has been proven time and time again that this harsh lighting makes us look worse than we think we do, and therefore, throw a fuming fit in the dressing room, force us to snatch up the offending items and throw them haphazardly onto their hangers, all the while muttering obscenities about the clothing manufacturers and the current state of your thighs, march out of the dressing room and barely acknowledging the chipper dressing-room attendant (who, without fail, ALWAYS cheerfully asks, "So did anything work out for you today?"), throw the offending items on the counter, and storm out of the store.

I mean, doesn't it make more sense to have more flattering light in the dressing rooms? Think about it - if you're in a store where you try on something that you probably don't need in the first place, it looks AMAZING on you, you're going to buy it, right? And then when you get home and face reality, try on the item again only to see how truly awful it looks on you, what are the odds that most people will take the time to go back to the store and return it? I know so many people who have a whole pile of clothes meant for returning, and then they sit there, obviously unreturned, until it's too late and they're stuck with their bad purchase.

Needless to say, I haven't had much luck with clothes shopping lately. Last weekend, I went to the Woodburn Outlet Mall (aka Nirvana), and came out with nothing. Zilch. Nada. Well, that's not technically true. As I got back in my car after failed trips inside Ann Taylor, White House Black Market, Banana Republic, Cole Haan, Gap, AND the Kitchen Outlet, I totally could have seen myself buying a commemorative shirt that said, "I went to the Woodburn Outlet Mall, and all I got was the desire to lose 10 lbs." Yesterday, I wasn't in the best of moods, so I made a collosial mistake: I went to The Rack and had the same feeling of failure and misery. Retail therapy FAIL.

Which really leaves me no choice but to head to the land of no dressing rooms and free return shipping. Oh internet shopping, I have a feeling that we're going to become GREAT friends.

sharing is caring!

2010-05-03T12:17:00.000-07:00

When you mix 3/4 c. of this...

...with 1/4 c. (melted) of this...

...and add in 1 jigger of this...

...and blend it for a full minute with this....

...happiness and a larger pants size will ensue. Trust me - I speak from experience.

p.s. it goes quite well with pancakes, apple pie, vanilla ice cream, fruit, or with a spoon.

just one reason why i love the PNW

2010-04-21T10:18:00.000-07:00

Sure, they're technically volcanos that could destruct the entire region with one little hiccup (see: Mount St. Helens), but this kind of beauty isn't seen anywhere else in the lower 48 states.

Mt. Adams and Mt. St. Helens.

Mt. Rainier and Mt. Adams

Update: I guess you could argue that this little thing called the Rocky Mountains has the same kind of beauty, but I believe that's one of those things where you can lose sight of the forest through all the trees - right?

so close! yet so far...

2010-04-20T10:47:00.000-07:00

Well, while going to the book signing to meet The Pioneer Woman last night was fun, sadly, I didn't get a [good] picture with her. Apparently, only the people who got there insanely early knew that you had to get tickets in order to get in line to get your cookbook signed. Considering I took two stupid wrong turns on the way there and got there only 5 minutes early, I was not one of these lucky selected few. But I did get lucky in that I got a pretty good viewing spot, considering how many people were there.

Insaaaaaaaane.

After a short and very entertaining Q&A session where we were graced with a delightful Ethel Mermen impression, people started getting in line to get their cookbooks signed and a picture with Ree.

Side Note: Most entertaining question of the evening: "How are you going to teach your daughters the difference between a GOOD hiney-tingle and a BAD hiney-tingle...especially when it comes to men?" You could tell Ree was thinking, "How the #$%& should I know???" AWESOME.

She's so pretty, and I'm jealous of her accessorizing ability!

Alas, I didn't get my cookbook signed, but the pictures I got was good enough. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go figure out how many miles I need to run after I eat her recipe for Mocha Silk Pie that I want to make this weekend.

a good day about to get better

2010-04-19T16:38:00.000-07:00

Oh. My. Gosh.

I am literally bouncing in my work chair, checking the clock about every 52 seconds to see if it is yet time to go get ready.

4:39. Damn. Not yet.

Because once that clock reaches 4:55 (16 more minutes!) I get to change and make myself look somewhat/hopefully presentable to drive out to Beaverton, go wait in line at Powell's, and get my cookbook signed. The cookbook that I have gone through more times than I can count, salivating over the recipes that I would love to make, but am too scared to due to the fact that if I did, I would eat every single thing and then my clothes wouldn't fit anymore.

4:40.

I GET TO MEET THE PIONEER WOMAN!!!!!!!!!

Does that make me sound stalker-ish? I mean, I'm no stalker (4:41), but I've only been reading this blog and making these recipes for the past 2 and a half years. I was so disappointed when her tour last summer didn't go any farther west than Texas, thinking that I would never get to meet her. But now her mini cookbook tour is in the NW! Happiness, pure happiness.

4:42...

Yes, I will be posting pictures tomorrow. I'm so excited! Not only am I goig to the book signing tonight, but my boss got back from overseas today, so I actually had a busy day which made the day go by a bit faster. You know, except for the minutes right now that are dragging by. (4:43) AND my mom is in town, AND I got to feel Nugget kick for the first time yesterday (!!!!!), AND it was sunny this weekend.

Life is good!
(4:44)

A picture is worth a thousand words

2010-04-09T16:35:00.001-07:00

the PERFECT excuse! uhh, i mean, REASON

2010-04-06T09:28:00.000-07:00

Now that I'm in my 20s, I feel that I have earned the right to begin sentences with, "Well, when *I* was a kid..." For example, "When *I* was a kid, we didn't have these cool toys!" I mean, now little girls aren't playing with the wonderful miracle Easy-Bake oven (how DO they get a cupcake to bake in 5 minutes by the heat of a 100-watt lightbulb??), but are rolling out fondant and decorating multi-layer-cupcake-sized cakes. With real tools! Endorsed by Duff aka the Ace of Cakes! Do you know how much fun I would have had with that? Heck, even now I'm considering buying it just so I can have that same joy that technology hadn't yet evolved to when I was in the 5-13 yr. age group. While I had the mini-kitchen whose cabinet doors actually -gasp!- opened and closed and the burners on the stove were represented by red coil stickers, nowadays the lucky kiddies get to use a mini-kitchen whose refrigerator has an actual fake-ice-cube dispenser and the stovetop actually lights up when the burners are "hot".

Of course I'm not bitter, why do you ask?

Anyway. One of the other things that I have always wanted to do but could never quite justify spending the money on was the magical Build-A-Bear workshop. Where little kids can go in and biuld their dream stuffed animal, complete with matching outfit, shoes, hair accessories, and personalized heart that is placed inside the animal before being stuffed. All for the low, low reasonable price of ~$30. I mean, as a frugal adult, $30 seems totally unreasonable for a stupid little stuffed animal that will just be played with for 15 minutes before being cast aside forever as being too boring, but TOTALLY seems like fun to make. But now that I'm an "adult" and in my 20s, there is really no reason for me to go in and spend money on a stuffed animal that I don't even need.

BUT. Now I have Nugget to think about! I mean, a stuffed animal is a huge comfort item to a small child. And it is My Duty as an aunt-to-be to make sure that this little Nugget of joy is properly cared for, and has a truly adequate amount of love surrounding it at all times.

This is great! Now I totally have a justifiable reason instead of an unjustified want to go into this store! Add it to the new list of previously unneeded trips to the Disney store, FAO Schwartz, Toys 'R' Us, and the Lego store. BOO-YAH.

maybe I have an undiagnosed phobia or something

2010-03-29T10:01:00.000-07:00

I fear clutter.

While I love the whole "homey, lived in" feel of homes with coffee tables topped with an array of magazines, the morning paper piled by the recliner, or the 324,780 pens in the junk drawer, it just doesn't work in mine.

Don't get me wrong - I'm no clean freak. And I inevitably have that drawer (or two. or five) that I can never keep clean and organized. But even though I can't keep it clean, it still bugs the crap out of me that it's there....taunting me and just BEGGING to be annihilated.

This weekend, I started the charge. General MacArthur would be proud.

Using my dad's infamous motto of "When in doubt, throw it out," I started waging a war against my room, cabinets, bathroom, and hopefully the rest of my house. I have a dedicated corner of my room where a pile for Goodwill is steadily growing, and I'm sure the garbage man loves the extra contributions I'm making to his job as well. Not only am I cleaning out things that haven't seen the light of day since our move back to Oregon 5 years ago, but I'm also (-gasp!-) noticing things around my house that really do require a trip to Lowes or Home Depot. The air vent in the hallway that's been haning crooked since July (it's not MY fault that the drywall decided to disintigrate), the cabinet door that is coming loose off of its screws, the formica on the counter that is starting to peel back (I'm sure the scotch tape holding it on won't last for long), and I'm sure that the furnace filters really do need to be cleaned. Do I know how to fix half of these things? Heck no. But that's why I'm so lucky to have male family members who are more than willing to teach me how to use the toolbox I got for my birthday last year.

You never know - I might find out that some of those tools actually have a purpose besides chipping ice out of my freezer =].

Anyways. There's just something about this time of year that makes me want to get rid of everything I don't need. Maybe it comes from the habit of getting ready to move every spring (which has been our tradition for the past 5 yeras), or maybe it's the fact that I'm actually growing up and having to do this stuff for myself. Either way, I'm sure that my parents are reading this and having minor heart-attacks, since they probably thought that they would never live to see the day where I'm trying to clean out stuff and work on house projects.

When did I grow up? And how do I make it stop???

All I know is that it feels sooooo good to have everything organized. Even if it is just the shoes in my closet, and only until I throw today's shoewear of choice back into my closet tonight.

Gampa? Pops? G-Daddy? Goodness.

2010-03-10T17:49:00.000-08:00

Hello, my dear blog. How I’ve missed you. Ever since my place of employment decided to install new internet firewalls blocking most of my favorite blog sites, it has been forcing our relationship to crumble. Please forgive me and be patient with my tardiness in returning.

And besides, nothing THAT interesting has been going on. I get up, I go to the gym, I go to work, come home, and hit up the occasional happy hour or two.

But I did go home last weekend to visit my parents, and my sister and brother-in-law happened to be visiting, too. We had a great time, especially laughing over the fact that about every 20 minutes, we got to hear, “DAMMIT, I have to go to the bathroom AGAIN.” Nugget seems to be getting bigger by the day, and therefore having more of an impact on her bladder than K would like.

Ever since we found out that she’s pregnant, my mom has been ecstatic over the fact that she’s going to be a Grandma, and I think the entire town of Mayberry knows that she’s getting a grandchild in July. My dad, on the other hand, has a bit more control over his excitement. Don’t get me wrong, he’s happy for my sister and excited about Nugget, but the fact that he’s going to be a Grandpa….it makes him sound….old. Never mind the fact that the man has had a head of white hair since he was 20 and will be eligible for the Early Bird Special at Denny’s in a short 3 years, but he’s having a hard time coming to grips with the fact that his daughter is going to have a kid. A kid who will call him Grandpa and be a constant (joyful, I’m sure) reminder of his own age.

This being said, over the weekend I was deemed the lovely task of going to Mr. Google and finding alternatives to the name Grandpa. Here is a small sample of the names I found:

Gramps

G-Daddy

Boppy

Banpa

Papps

Grampster

PeePaw

Grand-Dude

Guppa

You get the idea. My sister refuses to bring up her child to call our dad “Uncle,” and he’s not too fond of “Grandpa”…what’s a family to do?

After some careful thought, my mom came up with the compromise/solution: My dad will be known as “PapaKay,” like all one word (it makes sense since all of our names start with the letter ‘K’)

Sounds young enough, dontcha think?

Don't Worry - I've Got Time!

2010-01-19T09:05:00.000-08:00

So much of our lives are lived this way.

When I was younger, my parents would go to work during the summer and leave my sister and I home alone, with a list of chores, workbook pages, and ideas for other activities to do throughout the day. The rule was, no matter what, the chores and workbook pages had to be done before we could get on the computer, watch TV, or go jump on the trampoline. I would usually start out my morning thinking, "Oh, I don't need to do those right now - I've got time!" And then I'd goof off most of the day, only to be racing to get my list done by the time my parents got home. Now that I'm older and (hopefully) wiser, I've learned that it makes much more sense to spread things out, or get them done sooner rather than later before you run out of time in the end.

Why don't we use this philosophy more in our everyday lives?

In my last post, I asked for prayers for my friend Molly, a volunteer at an orphanage down in Haiti. We learned last week that she didn't survive the earthquake, and volunteers had found her body among the rubble that had previously been an orphanage. The concept that life can be taken from us so quickly comes as a sharp blow, but does tend to put our own lives into perspective. While I complain about things like bills, laundry, and those 5 pesky pounds I can never manage to lose, the people in Haiti are worried about basic needs like water, food, and shelter, not to mention finding and/or burying their loved ones.

Makes my own life and problems seem a bit (and by a bit, I mean a whole heck of a lot) insignificant. I'm so blessed to have a wonderful family, friends, a job, a roof over my head, my education, and my health. Comparing the two, I definitely got the better end of the deal.
It seems that the human race as a whole has the attitude that we are immortal, and the concept of death is very real, but only in the lives of others. That being said, we tend to live our lives as procrastinators to the extreme, never thinking that the precious gift of life can be taken in a split second.

So we create our "Bucket List," and we promise ourselves that we'll start tomorrow - but before you know it, 40 years of 'tomorrows' have come and gone, and we still haven't lived. While Molly's death is a tragedy in that she was doing such good work, and the work has been interrupted, it can inspire us to not only live our lives to the fullest, but to make our own lives more meaningful by going out and helping those in need.

Basically I'm rambling about nothing more than the fact that I feel we all have so much to live for, and yet rarely do. I'll miss Molly, and feel so sad that she died, but take comfort in the fact that we didn't 'lose' her, because we know that she can be found in Heaven.

the universe is trying to tell me something - life's too short

2010-01-13T10:02:00.001-08:00

When I woke up this morning at 4am for my usual jaunt to the gym, I didn't expect to hear birdsong, have my coffee ready-made, and for my hair to curl just right like something in a Disney princess movie. But I certainly didn't expect to be handed a subtle-like-a-freight-train hint from the Universe, either. It seemed to say, "Life ain't fair, and life is too short - make today count."

My friend Molly is currently serving as a Catholic missionary at an orphanage in Haiti. With yesterday's 7.0 magnitude earthquake, her family still doesn't know if she's okay or not. One of our other friends from UP was visiting her at the orphanage this week, and has thankfully made it back to the US Embassy with a broken arm, but is otherwise (according to her Facebook page) fine. Apparently, she was on the top floor of the building, and Molly was on the fifth floor when the earthquake struck and the building collapsed. If you're reading this, please say a quick prayer for Molly and her family, that she is found safe and that her family has the strength to endure whatever comes their way, and for our other UP friend, that she gets home quickly and safely, and has a quick recovery.

To add insult to injury, this morning I get an e-mail from my dad (we work for the same company), saying that my ex-boss died last night. Just out of the blue, -wham!- he keels over from a heart attack. Granted, he didn't live the healthiest lifestyle, but still. You never expect the heart attacks, the earthquakes, or the strike of the lightening bolt. We all go about our daily lives with a feeling of immortality, until God comes along and reminds us how precious life is, and how we need to thank Him every day for receiving the gift of life.

Stop and smell the roses. Tell someone you love them. Smile to a stranger on the street, and go ahead and eat that chocoalte. Life is too short to sweat the small stuff, so make each second count. And please keep praying for the people of Haiti.

New York, New York

2010-01-08T16:03:00.000-08:00

I know that all my faithful, devoted readers (read: all 7 of you, who I truly do appreciate) have been DYING to hear about my trip to New York last week.

Well. I survived.

I survived on about 4-5 hours of sleep per night. I survived on minimal caffeine. I survived 10 hours in Times Square with about a million other people (and yes, that did mean I also survived not using the bathroom for 10 hours - it can be done!). I survived a night sharing a bed with 3 other girls. I survived walking from the Upper West Side of Central Park all the way down to Times Square and beyond, after a night of standing for 10 hours.

Basically, my friends and I rock.

After the aforementioned freak Portland snowstorm, it took me a full two hours to get home on the bus. Which of course caused a dangerous spike in my blood pressure, as I was imagining all kinds of horrible scenarios where I didn't get home in time, forgot to pack something, got in a car crash on my way to the airport, and, worst of all, miss my flight. I hadn't seen my best friends in over 6 months, so the idea of looking forward to something for 4 months to only have it yanked out from under my feet due to snow was unacceptable. Fortunately, all the really bad traffic was heading south, and I was heading north - with snowtires and snow-driving experience to boot. I made it to my sister's house with enough time to down some yummy Yakisoba noodles that Generic made, have a swig of Bailey's, and have them drive me to the airport.

Anyways. I was able to sleep on the flight, ("Thank you, Tylenol PM!") for a few hours, so when I got to Philly, I took a shower and was ready to go sightseeing. We saw the Comcast Center (what kind of kick-a$$ place has a 3-story TV screen in their lobby?!), Independence Hall, and the Liberty Bell.

*Please note the beautiful Bill O'Reilly/O'Reilly Factor shirt that I got for Christmas

The next day, we got up at the plumber's-crack of dawn and got on the train to Trenton, NJ, where we then switched trains to go to New York. Once we emerged from the station under Madison Square Garden and I got over my initial shock as to how many people there are in New York, we went to our postage-stamp of a hotel room to change before heading over to the Square.

Horrible picture (it was COLD), but I was pretty excited to be in New York

We secured our spot in the Square, and settled in for a loooooooooong wait before the Big Ball Drop. During that time, the people watching was FABULOUS (especially the guy who was badly break-dancing without a shirt on in the 20-degree cold), we heard Jennifer Lopez rehearse her set about 54,480 times before my ears started to bleed, watched Nick and Vanessa awkward kiss on the Nivea Kiss stage, saw a proposal, and saw Carson Daly. THEN. it was. THE MOMENT.

Watching that Ball drop made the past 10 hours seem like 10 minutes. Hearing everyone singing 'Imagine' and dance around to 'I Got a Feeling' got the blood and adrenaline pumping, and made us forget how cold, tired, sore, and hungry we were (surprisingly, none of us had to use the bathroom, which goes to show that if you don't drink fluids for 24 hours and eat lots of salt, you too can go 10 hours without using the bathroom!), and made it all worth it.

After getting out of the Square and finding some street vendor food, we finally made it back to our hotel room and fell asleep around 3am. We woke up at 9, showered, checked out, and made our way uptown to our next hotel. After dropping off our stuff, we ate, went to Central Park, FAO Schwartz, 5th Avenue, Rockefeller Center, and a ton of other places. We didn't get to the southern part of the island, simply because we didn't have enough time. Which just means that I'll have to go back someday in order to see Ground Zero, the Statue of Liberty, and Wall Street/Trinity Church.

The whole group in Central Park - I love this picture

A week later, I'm still recovering - but it was all worth it, every last second. The experience and weekend I spent with my friends will always be a treasure for me, and I definitely want to go back someday.

But if you think I'm leaving my beautiful mountains, lakes, and beach for the concrete of New York, you got another thing comin'.

Look for me on New Years Eve

2009-12-29T15:06:00.000-08:00

Because I'll be in Times Square! Or at least in the vicinity, depending on the weather and the moods of my travel buddies. This is going to be a reunion like no other (or at least until we all meet again) for my college family and myself. It's also my first trip to Philadelphia and New York City, so I'm pretty excited.

Well, excited right up until it started snowing in Portland. Snow! in PORTLAND!!

Ok. Let's breathe. This is all going to be just fine.

-sigh-

Well, let's look at the bigger picture, shall we?
1) Yes, there's a terror alert from the attempted boming on a Delta flight 4 days ago. But that was four days ago. And I'm not flying Delta -- I'm on a Continental flight. And all those extra security measures that will probably make me late for my flight really have my best interests (and life) at heart, so I guess it's one of those things where you just have to grin and bear it.
2) Yes, it's snowing, thus putting quite the large damper on the schedule I was hoping to follow tonight before leaving for the airport. But at least I have snow tires, and I grew up driving in the snow, so I'm a seasoned veteran. It's the other 439,521 drivers on I-5 and I-205 who think they know how to drive in the snow, and in all actuality...don't. Or they could be like the crazy lady on the radio last Christmas whose rule-of-thumb was to drive so that her speed matched the temperature outside. If it was 15 degrees outside, then she would drive 15 miles per hour -facepalm-
3) My actual ride to the airport also grew up driving in snow, so I'm in safe, capable hands.
4) I woke up at 4am and am still trying to catch up on sleep from all the wonderful Christmas festivities, so I'm hoping that combination will make me sleep like a baby on the plane. Worst case, I'll pay $15 for a tiny glass of generic wine and fall into a coma-like sleep.

The NN (Niece/Nephew Nugget)

2009-12-28T10:40:00.000-08:00

So my sister made a little announcement on Christmas Eve....that by this time next year, we'd have a new addition to the family:

Since they're not finding out the gender until it's born, I have dubbed it "The Nugget," which I believe is a much better choice than the alternatives of "It," or "Ziggy the Zygote." They told us the Big News by giving us all Christmas cards with something along the lines of "To a Wonderful Aunt," "To Wonderful Grandparents," etc., and included the above picture and signed it "Love, Ziggy." My grandma/roommate didn't get it at first, and asked, "Who's Ziggy? Did you guys get a cat?" Wonderful story to tell the Nugget someday - your great-grandmother thought that they were telling her they got a cat (ptooie!) instead of a baby.

Congrats, K and Generic! You're going to be wonderful parents!

Make something foolproof, and the world will hand you a better fool.

2009-11-25T14:17:00.000-08:00

For weeks now, I've been planning what I was going to bake for my designated Thanksgiving task: dessert. By request, of course. I've scoured my favorite baking sites, looking for the item(s) that would be tasty, look difficult without too much work on my part, and that everyone would like. Surprisingly, I quickly found what I was looking for, and decided to make PW's Pumpkin Pecan Caramel cheesecake with a Gingersnap crust, and CM's White-Chocolate Ribbon Pumpkin Bundt cake with Maple Glaze. My mouth is watering just thinking about it. Plus, for an added bonus, I figured that the cheesecake was foolproof, since PW so kindly lays out in pictures step-by-step explanations on how to make the delectable cheesecake.

Make something foolproof, and you'll find a better fool, right?

So last night was the night to make the cheesecake. I have been slowly accumulating the necessary ingredients for a few weeks now, in order to not blow my grocery budget out of proportion. I assembled all the ingredients on the counter in front of me, and got to work.

Step 1: Crush the gingersnaps in a food processor, or large Ziplock bag, mix with chopped pecans, brown sugar, and melted butter.

Psh. No problem. And since my motto is, "I'm not lazy, I'm efficient!" I decided to go with the Ziplock route in order to avoid washing another dish. Halfway through the crushing process, I discover that my heavy-duty Hefty Zip-lock bag has a hole in it, thus getting gingersnap crumbs all over my counter. No big deal. But because I went to a sustainably-conscious school, I hate to waste another plastic, non-biodegradable bag, so I resort to the food processor route.

Now, I've never used a food processor in my life. Frankly, it looked like too much work to put together and clean. But I needed those gingersnap crumbs, darn it! I pulled it out of the cupboard and set it on the counter. Looked simple enough: put the bowl and blade on the stand, dump in the food, screw on the lid and push the 'On' button. Hmmm, the 'On' button isn't working. Maybe the 'Pulse' button? Hmm, still not working. Maybe this outlet doesn't work. So I moved it over to the other side of the kitchen and repeated the same steps as before. Still not working. Well this processor looks as old as the hills, so maybe it's broken? Or maybe there's a safey 'On' switch on the bottom or something. After inspecting the mahcine for a few minutes, I finally realize that all of the little components have to line up just right in order for the machine to turn on. Oops. And after that, it works like a charm -- not only do I get my finely-ground gingersnaps, but finely-ground pecans as well! Mix in the brown sugar and melted butter, and press into a springform pan. Hmm, it looks a little more crumbly on the bottom than I'm used to, but I followed the recipe and it's sticking to the sides, so it shouldn't really matter. Let chill for 30 minutes. Life is goooooooooood, and I am a kitchen Master.
After the crust is sufficiently chilled, I took it out, and following PW's instructions, drizzled some caramel ice cream topping on the bottom of the crust. Pour in the pumpkin filling, and stick in the oven. Mission accomplished!
While the cheesecake was baking, the instructions said that your house should be starting to smell "heavenly." Mine was starting to smell a bit "smoky." I wandered into the kitchen to check the cheesecake's progress, and could see a fine plume of smoke coming from the oven's exhaust vents. I cracked the door open, and a whole wave of smoke billows out. What the #$%(&#$ hell!?!?!? I'm not sure WHAT my grandma cooked last in our oven, but there is some kind of liquid on the bottom that is causing some major smokage. I quickly opened the windows and doors, grabbed a dishtowel and started fanning out the kitchen, praying that the smoke detectors wouldn't go off. I repeated this process about 5 more times before the oven timer went off. When I opened the oven door one last time, I noticed that something was dripping off the pan, onto the bottom of the oven. That's when it hit me: That caramel sauce? The cheap stuff that I got at WinCo? And the crust that didn't look packed-in enough? AND THE FREAKIN' SPRING FORM PAN THAT LEAKS?!?!?! Yes, I now have liquid carmel on the bottom of my oven, and burnt on to boot. Which should make the cake and rolls I have to bake tonight a really fun process.
Hope my family doesn't mind their desserts with a bit of a smokey...er, rustic, aftertaste. Yeah, we'll call it rustic.
Or we'll be making a last-minute jaunt to Costco for one of their apple pies.

Happy Thanksgiving!

My Aunt, the Martyr

2009-11-24T09:21:00.001-08:00

I just had the following conversation with my dad's sister, via texting.

Aunt: Good morning. Would it be possible for u to bring down grammas cardtable with u? Mike is bringing down the bbq for Cary and doesn't have room.
Me: Sure, no problem =] (SIDENOTE: See how nice I'm being??)
Aunt: Thank u. We're thinking for dinner and the puzzle it would be a good thing. We're going to head down to Pacific City in a bit to watch the surfers and have a crab cakes egg benedict, and a bloody mary ;-)
Me: You're killing me, Smalls! Tonight I'm making one of the desserts, which now I'm debating sharing with everyone =P
Aunt: Hmmmm. I'm doing it for gramma really....it's a sacrifice....
Me: Oh sure. Just like I sacrifice for the economy at the Black Friday Sales!
Aunt: Yeah, something like that. And I do so enjoy being a martyr :-)

CRUEL, I TELL YOU!!! Most of my family is at the beach, and I'm here in the city for 2 more days for work. The injustice of it all is hard to bear sometimes.

The Rules of Chocolate

2009-11-24T08:51:00.000-08:00

If you've got melted chocolate all over your hands, you're eating it too slowly.

Chocolate covered raisins, cherries, orange slices and strawberries all count as fruit, so eat as many as you want.

The problem: How to get 2 pounds of chocolate home from the store in a hot car. The solution: Eat it in the parking lot.

Diet tip: Eat a chocolate bar before each meal. It'll take the edge off your appetite, and you'll eat less.

If calories are an issue, store your chocolate on top of the fridge. Calories are afraid of heights, and they will jump out of the chocolate to protect themselves.

If I eat equal amounts of dark chocolate and white chocolate, is that a balanced diet? Don't they actually counteract each other?

Money talks. Chocolate sings. Beautifully.

Chocolate has many preservatives. Preservatives make you look younger. Therefore, you need to eat more chocolate.

Put "eat chocolate" at the top of your list of things to do today. That way, at least you'll get one thing done.

A nice box of chocolates can provide your total daily intake of calories in one place. Now, isn't that handy?

If you can't eat all your chocolate, it will keep in the freezer. But if you can't eat all your chocolate, what's wrong with you?

If not for chocolate, there would be no need for control top pantyhose. An entire garment industry would be devastated. You can't let that happen, can you?

Allow me to introduce you

2009-11-16T16:03:00.000-08:00

I have bad knees. I have size 11 feet, aka skiis. I like to wear my pants a little longer in the leg to allow more freedom in footwear choices (heels, flats, the like). Keeping these facts in mind, the footwear choices are a bit slim. At least if I'm looking for cute women's shoes, as opposed to the men's running shoes I have to buy on occassion.

That is, if your definition of "on occasion" is 90% of the time, since most shoemakers haven't caught up with the common era and have realized that not everyone is the perfect sample-size-7.

Anyways.

Allow me to introduce you to a modern-day miracle of footwear.

-sigh-

Isn't it beautiful!?

Yes, my fine feathered friends, this is the classic patent-leather peep-toe slingback heel, made by Mr. Cole Haan. A shoe designer who has gone where no other non-athletic shoe designer has gone before, and teamed up with Nike to pair his shoes with the Nike Air technology. Which means that with any other shoe, my entire body would be in agony after wearing these shoes for a day. BUT. with these beauties, I am literally walking on air all day. And you have to admit, the black patent-leather is such a classic, it will never go out of style. Which, in addition to the Nike comfort-factor, is probably a reason these puppies run about $300/pair.

But that's where my shoe fairy tale actually comes true. Not only did I find these 3 years ago at Nordstrom, only dreaming of the day when I could call a pair my own. Not only have I gone back time and time again to drool over them on display. Not only did I find them in a size 11 at the Rack (the shoe haven for all plus-sized shoe wearers.)

Oh no. What really puts the icing on the cake is that I paid $80. TOTAL. Location, size, price, and comfort? Now THAT is a modern-day fairy tale.

Mock me if you will, but after so many years of uncomfortable and ugly shoes on my feet, I've come to appreciate this amazingness for what it really is.

The Ugly Truth

2009-11-13T14:11:00.000-08:00

It's an unfortunate fact of life that there are homeless people, many of them living in the metropolitan areas of cities. Whenever you walk around downtown Portland, 9 times out of 10 a homeless person will ask for money or food. While Jesus told us to care for the homeless, in this day and age, you never know if the money you give will go towards food and shelter or an addictive drug habit. Which is why, 9 times out of 10, I ususally say, "I'm sorry," and walk away.

Unfortunate, but true.

Today was one of those rare times where a guy, sitting in the rain, shivering, asked me for money. Now, granted, I was on my lunch break and in a hurry to get to the library and back in my alotted 45 minutes, but the minute I said, "No, sorry," I had an "aha" moment and remembered that Jesus asked, "When I was hungry, did you give me food? When I was thirsty, did you give me something to drink?" I decided that on my way back, if he was there, I would give that man some money. I passed him on a different corner on my way back, gave him some money, and could honestly see some gratitude in his eyes -- a feeling that helps me feel like I'm doing the right thing.

However.

As I continued on my way back, I passed some punk-ass kids sitting by the animal fountains by the courthouse, holding a sign that said, "Trying to get drunk." Now, normally I'm the kind of person who thinks something along the lines of idiot kids, and pass by, but for some reason today was the day where it sent my blood boiling. I actually stopped and told those kids in the nastiest voice I could muster "Yeah, good luck with that," and continued walking. I mean, I'm sorry, I usually try not to judge, since one can never know the full story of the people living that life. But when there are people living on the street because their house foreclosed, or they lost their job, or some other truly sad event, doing everything they can just to get by. And then you see punk-ass kids not finishing high school, not trying to become productive members of society -- no, they're sitting begging for money so they can get drunk, fall down and crack their head open, and then go to the hospital where I, a productive tax-paying citizen, get the privilege to pay their bills. And then they feel that they are entitled to free healthcare, giving them another excuse to drink without consequence.

If you want to be "honest" about the use of the money you're begging for -- fine. But don't expect me to contribute MY hard-earned money towards YOUR unhealthy habits. Finish your education and learn what a healthy lifestyle really means.

It's Raaaaing, it's poooooooouring, the old man is snooooooring

2009-11-13T11:24:00.000-08:00

Welcome to Oregon, the land of perpetual winter rain.

Last year after a spring of torrential rains, my car started leaking underneath the dashboard on the drivers side. Which meant that the floorboards of the drivers side were always nice and sopping wet – a great feeling when you had to drive in heels. Since the car was still technically the property of my parents, they paid to get it fixed while I was home for Christmas break. The problem was traced back to a cracked drainage pipe that had also gotten clogged with Portland’s finest pine needles. After patching the drainage pipe, clearing out the clog and my dad paying the bill (thanks Dad!) I was on my way, to enjoy the rest of the spring rains blissfully dry in my nice warm car. I thought my problems were over.

Silly me.

So imagine my justified annoyance when I got in my car yesterday to go to work, and was welcomed with a quarter-inch of water resting peacefully on the floor of my car…this time, on the passenger side.

Sh*t. Seriously!?

And of course it’s on a day that I’m already running late. I ran inside to grab a beach towel to soak up as much of the water as I could, and then threw it in the garage to hopefully start drying out. When I finally got to work, first thing I did (after calling my dad to complain) was to call the Ford dealership to bring my car in first thing Saturday morning. My boss overheard, and his oh-so-helpful suggestion was, “Well back in the day when cars were much simpler we would just drill a hole in the bottom to let the water drain out.” Oh THANKS, that’s a fabulous suggestion. I’d rather NOT, thankyouverymuch. So, now I get to go without a car for the weekend while it’s getting fixed and pay through the nose to boot, all so that my car won’t leak and therefore smell like mold for the rest of its lifetime.

On a much brighter note, I’m getting little reminders everywhere I go about what season is coming up (or is it already here? According to the Target ad, The Season was here in October). The flower shop in my building already has decorated Christmas trees in the window, there are miniature Christmas trees around Pioneer Square, and there are twinkle lights wrapped around all the trees. I’ve decided to show some uncharacteristic restraint this year and wait for the tinsel-wrapped light-post decorations before watching Love Actually and Just Friends (the quintessential Christmas-movies of our generation, you know), breaking out the *NSYNC Christmas album, and baking Christmas cookies.

Fortunately, that basically means waiting until Monday.

Future

2009-11-03T13:16:00.000-08:00

I live with my grandmother, who isn't exactly what you would call 'tech-savvy,' or even 'tech-literate.' In fact, I kind of think that today's electronics intimidate her a little bit. But, then again, I don't really blame her. When my grandpa was alive, he took care of anything electronic in the house: checking smoke alarms, checking e-mail, recording TV shows on the VCR, heck, even setting the alarm clock. After he died, not only was it a shock for her to start living life as an elderly widow, but also to take all of these tasks on herself. I remember the night we tried to teach her something as simple as setting the alarm clock. It took a good 30 minutes, along with written instructions, and 2 years of practice before she finally got it down. Two years ago, my aunt and uncle got her a DVD player -- the entire machine has about 3 buttons on it (they claimed it was "foolproof.") Even with written instructions, I still have to be home in order for her to watch a DVD.

And this isn't necessarily a bad thing -- just another part of the generation gap. And it goes both ways; I know that my great-grandmother would have been appaled to know that I not only don't know how to knit, but I have never canned a fruit or vegetable in my life. But it makes me wonder, what kinds of things will intimidate me when I'm my grandmother's age? No one can really imagine what kinds of things are going to exist tomorrow, much less 50 years from now. Will I be as confused with technology as she is? Will my grandchildren be rolling their eyes at me when I ask what I assume is a legitimate question? Will I be completely baffled by something as easy as ordering a pizza for dinner? (I'm having flashbacks to 'Back to the Future' with that one).

Can you tell I've been reading 'The Time Travelers Wife'?

Check!

2009-10-23T10:43:00.000-07:00

Kourtney's Bucket List:

#57 Learn the words to Johnny Cash's 'I've Been Everywhere'

#24 Learn to snowboard

#3 Attend a Papal Mass

#18 Become fluent in Spanish

# 35468168084684 Wake up to the dulcent tones of a puppy puking...on carpet....two feet from my head....at 5:23am. -- check!

And you want to know the part that annoys me the most? Not that she chose to puke underneath my desk as far back as she could to make cleaning that much more difficult, not the fact that she chose to puke right on the rug that I had cleaned just yesterday when she had an "accident" while I was at the gym, not that she looked at me with those adorable big brown eyes right when she did it, not that I woke up to the sounds of retching...

Nope, what annoyed me the most was that it happened a full 20 minutes before my alarm was supposed to go off. Figures.

Monday: The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly

2009-10-20T11:21:00.000-07:00

Yesterday was just one of those days where you wake up knowing that the rest of the day is going to go downhill from there. The following is a somewhat-condensed version of my day:

- 3:57am. Wake up, realize that it's really better for my health if I skip the gym and go back to sleep. Pat puppy on the head, set alternative alarm, and fall back into a blissful slumber.

-6:27am. Wake up to an adorable puppy-face about an inch from my nose. Realize that it helps to not only set the alternative alarm, but make sure to realize that the volume on said alarm is actually loud enough to wake up to. Lack of alarm volume causes one not to wake up on time at 5:45, but rather 45 minutes later. Race around the house with a puppy on my heels, trying to get out the door.

-Forget to give dog her allergy meds. At least she got fed, right?

-Since I woke up late, I didn't have time to drink my first cup of coffee. Had to throw it down the sink and go to Plan B (Diet Coke from the fridge to drink later in the day).

-Jump in my car at 7:14 to drive to bus stop. Bus stop is 4 mintues from house. Necessary bus arrives at the stop at 7:17. Do the math. End up missing the first bus and almost missing the second. Fortunately the bus driver was either sympathetic or entertained at the sight of my attempt to run to the bus with a bag, purse, a bag of homemade muffins and coffee cup in hand while wearing 3-inch heels. Barely made it and had to endure the glares of the other early-morning-bus-commuters who scorn me for making the bus sit at the stop for -gasp!- an extra full minute.

-Get to work and start wading through the weekends accumulated e-mail pile. Set out homemade muffins, quite smug in my baking abilities.

-Realize that I spent the entire bus ride and half of my morning with my pants' fly wiiiiiiiide open. Classy.

- Put plate of muffins in kitchen, only to realize that they didn't rise, and therefore have the density of a rubber Yoga brick. Silently curse the low-fat muffin recipe from Mr. Google.

- Sit through 2-hour conference call, and graciously accept my new lengthy to-do list for the day.

-Realize that the spreadsheet I started on Friday that I believed to be half done is sadly only about one-eighth of the way done. Mentally curse my mathematical abilities and race yet again to finish the spreadsheet to send to its rightful owner.

-Eat lunch at my desk, still working on the spreadsheet.

-Change clothes and attempt to gracefully haul 5 large packages to the UPS store to be shipped. 4 of these packages are going to Europe. Am astounded at the prices UPS wants to charge for one stinkin' package ($160!!!!!), and resort to calling my boss to see if he really wants that lovely tracking feature. Get the much-nicer equivalent of "HELLZ NO!!" and resort to the good old USPS for a much more reasonable rate. Send packages and then proceed out into the crisp Fall day for my daily 4-mile walk.

-Have a lovely chat with my mom, who listens to all of my woes and offers friendly over-the-counter advice. Send up a silent prayer of thanks to God for such a wonderful mother.

-Get back to work and change into work attire. Feverishly finish spreadsheet and start working on the rest of my to-do list.

-Yeah, definitely didn't finish that spreadsheet. But in my defense, I got the whole thing sent out, and then it needed some revisions.

-Left work a few mintues late -- and when riding public transit, every minute counts. In the end, I actually made it on the bus that gets me home quicker. Then I went home, changed, threw the dog in the car for a quick jaunt to the dog park for an hour, and finally came home for the evening.

But even though there was a whole lot that didn't go well during my day, here are a few of the things that did go right:

When I got home, I got to make these:

And I had this precious little beauty who was happy to see me:

And this was the view that I got on my walk:

I guess I'll take the good with the bad. But I still wish that I hadn't woken up so late that I forgot to zip my own pants. I have a feeling that the day would have been a lot better if I had remembered that little detail.

Done with Denial

2009-10-07T10:00:00.000-07:00

Hello, my name is Kourtney, and I'm a bakaholic.

Group: "Hello, Kourtney."

Whew. Glad I finally got that out in the open.

I love to bake. I love to cook. My favorite room in any house is the kitchen. My internet favorites folder is full of multiple subfolders, full of links to recipes that I've tried and love, or am chomping at the bit to try. I'm like a kid in a candy store when the Williams Sonoma catalogue comes out, and don't even get me started on how excited I get for family gatherings, and I get the opportunity to work some culinary magic in the kitchen.

The really sad reality is that I hate cooking for myself. In my opinion, there's nothing more depressing than cooking for one. Most of the time, I eat oatmeal, egg frittatas, or soup for dinner, simply because I can't bring myself to get the kitchen totally destroyed for one measley person. Basically, I need to cook for a group of people, a crowd, someone or something to appreciate the work and fun I had. Which may explain why I'm already scouring the internet for Thanksgiving dessert recipes to consider. Because it really will take me from now to November 26 to decide what to make.

For example: tonight my good friend B is coming over for dinner. So in honor of a dinner partner and someone besides myself to cook for, I'm making linguine with chicken thigh marinera, spinach salads, and fresh Snickerdoodles (his favorite cookie) for dessert. Tomorrow night I've already decided that I need to try a new recipe, so I'm making dinner for myself and my grandma (aka roommate). A new recipe that incorporates SO many of my favorite foods: pasta, butternut squash, BACON, and spinach. Groan. How can this not be good? Another favorite pasttime is taking an old favorite recipe, and tweaking it to (hopefully) improve it. Another example: Oatmeal cake with toasted coconut-pecan glaze became Oatmeal Apple Spice cake with Toasted Coconut-Pecan glaze with the addition of powdered sugar to make it a bit more sweet. Definitely a winner from all reports.

Anyways. I've been thinking about taking a class at our local community college, simply to learn something new, get out of the house, and hopefully meet some new people. I was talking to my mom this morning, and mentioned how much I'd like to take a community education class and started looking at the different class options. I kid you not, the first words out of her mouth were, "Kourtney, don't even THINK about taking a cooking class." See how well this woman knows me? That EXACTLY what I was thinking of taking, but considering I'm going on NutriSystem again (the last 10 pesky pounds that I didn't lose last time are going to LEAVE. FOR. GOOD.), it probably isn't a good idea to take a cooking class, where the homework involves calories that would most likely take up (semi-) permanent residence on my hips. Or at least the hips of my coworkers. I don't really see either scenario ending well. Looks like I'll end up taking a class that actually has some use in life, like caligraphy or ceramics pottery. The kind of stuff that will undoubtably be featured on the next Man vs. Wild episode.

Dear Kourtney, circa 1996

2009-10-01T11:23:00.000-07:00

Dear Kourtney,

Yes, this is a letter from the future you. Don't ask how this works, because I don't know either. I just know that there are a few little tidbits that it wouldn't hurt you to know as you continue on this crazy ride called life. Pay attention, because these pearls of wisdom will play themselves out in your future, and you'll want to be prepared.

Costa Rica -- when you go to Costa Rica during your sophomore year in high school, DO NOT room with Amy, and don't let her borrow your stuff. And bring enough bug repellant to cover the entire group. And don't let mom talk you out of bringing your CD player, because those bus rides are long and in need of muscial entertainment.
Lawn mowing -- when dad teaches you to use the riding lawn mower, pay attention. Do it right the first time, and it'll save you a lot of eye-rolling and second, third, and fourth trips back outside to do it right.
Also related: don't chase the dog while riding the tractor. It's all too easy to run into the trampoline which results in getting yelled at by dad.
Middle School -- no other way to put it, but middle school is going to be hell. Put up with the teasing, since you'll learn a lot from it. but quit being so damn uptight all the time! learn to go with the flow without losing your own morals, mmmk?
High school volleyball -- you're going to put up with a lot of shit, especially senior year. Don't be afraid of the evil coach, and don't be too disappointed when you get put on the JV team at camp senior year. You'll be MVP and throw it back in the coaches face in the long run. Oh, and you're going to sprain your ankle REALLY bad on senior night. Don't let that get to you, either.
Choosing a college -- definitely go with UP. you'll make some of the best friends of your life there. And you'll appreciate it the most during the spring of your freshman year, when you were able to be there when Grandpa dies (hate to give that away, but at least now you know to appreciate all the time you have left)
Summer, 2008 -- go ahead and live with the grandparents, and enjoy your time at the internship that lets you graduate from college early. Living with them will be one of the hardest things you'll ever do, but you learn a lot and you become closer with mom and dad.
Comfort zone -- leave it every once in a while! you'll regret it if you don't get a chance to try new things.
college advice -- CD is a Godsend for being your math tutor. Listen to mom and dad sophomore year during the roommate fight. don't rebel as much freshman year, learn to compromise. turn on the heat senior year. appreciate the time you have there. and stay away from those delicious cookies in the cafeteria -- you'll regret it later if you don't!
eating habits -- speaking of which, you're going to get hypothyroidism when you turn 15. it messes with your metabolism, so you'll have to work twice as hard as everyone else to stay healthy. take your medicine, you'll learn to love the gym, and spinach isn't that bad after all.
moving -- you're going to move away from WA right after graduation from high school. it actually turns out to be a great thing, so embrace it! don't worry, briney turns out to be a great friend, and don't date every guy that comes along.
also, don't post important stuff that you'd rather not make public on the internet. you'd think you'd know better, but it takes a tough lesson to learn it the hard way.
spanish -- take the chance and minor in spanish in college. and don't be afraid to speak up in class, it's the best way to learn. and keep studying it so you don't lose it!
europe -- you'll study abroad in spain in college. speak spanish as often as you can't, don't eat the shrimp your host mom cooks for you, bring an extra-large USB drive, and be sure to take the earlier bus back from barcelona.

best of luck -- you'll need it

"Pimp My Bed: The Male Sleep Lair" -- SERIOUSLY!!?!?

2009-09-23T15:54:00.000-07:00

"Bed makers are manning up.

"After years of catering to women, manufactuers are setting their sights on men. The new macho mattresses they're introducing have 'muscle-recovering properties' and cooling technology, on the theory that men are more likely to feel too hot in bed. The bed frame features built-in TV's, iPod docking stations, wine coolers, a safe, and other guy-friendly gadgetry.

"...a 33-yr.-old real-estate investor in Philadelphia, paid $30,000 for a Hollandia Internaitonal adjustable bed that offers a built-in 32-inch Sony flat-screen TV, surround-sound speakers and outlets for laptops.

"The new man-cave is the bed."

Seriously?!

I kid you not.

I'm sorry, but don't most women have a hard enough time getting their boyfriend/husband out of bed and away from the TV? In my opinion, this is either genius of the demise of the human race as we know it. Either the world will crumble since most men won't want to get out of bed in the mornings and continue their normal routine (actually, we're quite safe from this, since I didn't read where they had installed a toilet at the foot of the bed), OR it could be brilliant if the men don't want to leave their "man lair" -- leaves women to run the world!

After all, "When men get bored, they start a war. When women get bored, they go shopping."

See? I think we've found the solution to world peace, all from the comforts of our own bed/wine cooler/TV stand/iPod dock/outlet station.

Now how many do you want to bet they actually sell of these things?

pop-culture commentary -- because i know you care what i think

2009-09-22T11:26:00.000-07:00

Totally agreeing with EW's commentary on why we love DWTS, but in this season, WHERE IS MARK BALLAS, otherwise known as the GUILTY-PLEASURE REASON I WATCH THE SHOW.
(UPDATE: Appears that Mark Ballas appeared on night two of the 3-night show, and is partnered with Melissa Joan Hart, aka Sabrina the Teenage Witch. Even though I'm not sure they'll be the team to win, they're by-far my favorite team! Thinking Aaron Carter is going to win, though...)

LOVE Glee, despite it's awkward moments, especially the Push It dance and the dancing with balloons as spacers.

J&K+8 = enough, Jon, ENOUGH. Seriously. But I loved the story that the (hopefully ex-) nanny told InTouch about how he's not that great in bed. Et tu, karma?

The New Moon stills on The LA Times website -- be still, my beating heart. But honestly, only for the ones of Taylor Lautner and his marvelous, fantastic, sizzling, eye-popping abs. -sigh-

The Emmys: thought Debra Messing looked stunning, and didn't agree with the critics hating Hayden P's dress. I thought it looked great, but maybe I'm just partial to the color red. or maybe I just don't have good fashion sense -- wouldn't surprise me.

Obama on Letterman. Seriously, dude, don't you have some better things do to rather than endorse your celebrity status? Like, running the country? Investigating the ACORN scandal (for more info, go read about it at FOXnews.com)? Getting the troops out of Iraq like you promised to do "within 60 days of taking office"? Yeah buddy, might want to get your priorities straight.

A Thought-Provoking Fire Drill

2009-09-11T14:21:00.000-07:00

Yesterday, the building I worked in had a scheduled fire drill. However, in an attempt to prevent distrupting the workday as much as possible, they ran the drill in 2 different waves. The lower level though 10th floor went in the morning, and then 11-19 had their drill in the afternoon. It wasn't that bad, and it gave us a nice excuse to walk outside and enjoy the sunshine for 20 minutes while the rest of the floors filed out of the building.

As we learn from a young age, during a fire drill or an actual emergency, the elevators won't be in operation, so the stairwells are the only available exit. As my coworkers and I followed the herd down the stairs, I couldn't help but think how different the atmosphere would be if it was an actual fire. The panic, the stress, the worry about loved ones or the important files we left in our desks.

Then I realized what the date was. September 10th. And that tomorrow [or now, today] would be September 11. I can't even begin to imagine the panic and adrenaline that people must have felt as they rushed down the stairs, not knowing if the World Trade Center or Pentagon was going to collapse on top of them at any minute. It's at that point in your life when you realize all the things that you worried about before -- the unpaid bills, that extra 10 pounds that you're REALLY going to lose this time, trying to get the kids to soccer practice -- become insignificant. I know that if I were in that position (and thank the Lord Almighty that I wasn't, and I didn't personally know anyone who was), I would be thinking of all the things I would do, if I just had one more day. The things I wouldn't worry about, the things that I would tell my loved ones, the things that I would have wished I had been able to do.

Nine-eleven. I don't think that even 50 years from now when this date comes, I will forget to take a moment and pray for those 2,993 people who died. The firement, police officers, EMTs, and civilians who lost their lives at the hand of terrorism and hate. The people who were left behind to deal with the loss, those who spent months of their lives at Ground Zero, shifting through the debris, dreading the moment when they would find a body part and have to tell yet another family that their loved one had perished. I won't forget that when I first heard of the attacks, I was listening to the radio and brushing my teeth, getting ready for school. I won't forget thinking, "Oh, a plane crashed. Even though that's awful, they happen all the time." (I didn't yet know that they had crashed into the WTC towers). I won't forget sitting in my Spanish classroom, watching the horror unfold on the news, and my teacher asking us how many believed a war would follow this event. I won't forget looking around the classroom, and seeing 95% of my classmates raise their hands, along with my own. Or the worry that the Hanford Nuclear Plant would be a potential target. Or the pictures in the newspaper the next day, showing the smoking towers, reading about the heroic passengers who forced the highjackers to crash their plane in a remote Pennsylvania field, or the "jumpers," who would have rather crashed into the pavement below than die from the smoke and flames engulfing their offices.

America will always remember 9/11/2001 as a variety of things: the day of the largest attack since Pearl Harbor, Patriot Day, or the eveny that started the War on Terror. While I too will remember it with these labels, I will also remember it as a day to reflect on my life, and how fragile it truly is. We will always remember those who lost their lives, and those they left behind. And what we can learn from it all -- we live in the most powerful, wonderful, free country in the world. And no act of terror will ever change that.

Rantings and Random Ramblings

2009-09-11T08:24:00.000-07:00

This is just one of those weird weeks, you know? The kind where you don't work on Monday (but still got paid for it -- sweeeeeeeeeet) so the rest of the week is screwed up because you can't remember what day it is, and that just messes up the internal body clock like no other. At least it's Friday!! Anyways....

1. Anyone else tired of hearing about politics all the dang time? I mean, I'm no Obama fan (FAR from it, actually), but seriously, folks. Let's not make this harder than it already is! But, as I read once, the term 'politics' reflects so perfectly the true nature of the profession: poli, from the Greek word meaning 'many,' and -tics, which are tiny bloodsucking creatures. Call me young, call me ignorant, but "CAN'T WE ALL JUST GET ALONG?!?!?"

2. "If I find the misogynistic bastard that invented heels, I'll kill him." Can I get a second, ladies? Yesterday I made the unfortunate decision to wear some (quite fabulous) heels on my walk to the library. On the 16 blocks there, I was just fine and dandy. 9 blocks into the return trip, I'm starting to regret my decision. After the full 32 blocks and I'm limping my way into the lobby of my building, the blisters on top of my feet are screaming in agony. And now I'm thinking of investing in the Band-Aid brand, since I've probably used enough of their product in the last 24 hours to greatly increase their stock value. You're welcome, Johnson&Johnson.

3. I'm sorely tempted to start buying my lunch at the cafeteria in the building next door every day. I mean, where else can you get a LOADED small salad, made exactly to your specifications, with virtually no prep work, all for less than $4? That's right, my spinach salad with cherry tomatoes, red bell pepper, artichoke hearts, mushrooms, peas, sunflower seeds, grilled chicken, topped off with fat-free honey mustard dressing was ONLY $3.64!!! If you add up the cost of the ingredients plus the time and labor involved in prepping it, I bet that it's actually more than $3.64.

4. I've recently discovered that gummie bears make the best pre-workout snack at 4am. Just a handfull will do.....which means I've greatly depleted my grandmother's 6-lb. bag from Costco. Must remember to refill that, plus stock extra fortifications for future use.

5. I missed the new episode of Ace of Cakes last night -- sad. My newfound addiction to the Food Network is becoming quite alarming....although it must be said that last night's Food Network Challenge Disney Celebration Cakes was, to say the least....WICKED.

6. Remember from a previous post how there's the creepy guy who walks by the front door of our office and always stares at me? And I'm not talking just a quick glance and a smile, maybe a little wave, like the rest of his coworkers do. No, this guy gives the whole-body "glance" EVERY time he walks by. And now that he has taken to pulling his long-ish hair back into a ponytail (guys, please do us ladies a favor: when you're in your 50s, 60s, heck, even 40s, DO NOT, I repeat, DO NOT think it's cool to have a ponytail when you're already half bald. It's not a pretty sight and just helps your "creeper" effect). Long story short, this guy has gotten so creeper-ific that I actually had a nightmare the other night, and he was the main guy in it. Now we've reached a whole new level of scary.

7. FALL IS COMING!! Seriously -- maybe it's because it's the first year that I haven't gone back-to-school shopping or dreaded the end of summer, but for some reason, this year I'm SO ready for Fall. Ready for the leaves to change, sweaters, peacoats, and the crisp morning air. Ready to take walks in the early evening and smile as I hear the crunch of the fallen leaves under my feet, and tuck my gloved hands deep into the pockets of my favorite NorthFace coat. Ready for the gas fireplace and my fleece blanket on my bed at night. Ready for candles and pumpkin spice. Can you tell that Fall is my favorite time of the year? Don't even get me started on all the baking opportunities this time of year presents....

-- starts to daydream--

8. I'm so ready for Fall that I'm even thinking past Fall, and going straight for Christmas. Besides the start of the Fall lineup (anyone else going to be watching Grey's, Private Practice and The Office online because the shows are on past their bedtime? No? Well bugger off and stop laughing, I get up at 4am). My sister and I go crazy around the beginning of November, because that means that Christmas is right around the corner. Only problem is, my roommate doesn't allow any mention of Christmas carols, cookies, or decorations before the strike of midnight on November 30. But I'm ready for it all now -- to hear Britney Spears and Christina Aguilera sing their pop Christmas songs, the NSYNC Christmas album, decorating the tree, pouring over cookbooks, trying to decide what kinds of cookies to make this year, and wrapping presents. And no, I'm not one of those sick people who knows exactly what they're getting everyone, and has the presents wrapped and ready to go on December 1. Please, I'm not THAT crazy. I think.

Directions: Open Mouth, Insert Foot

2009-09-02T14:35:00.000-07:00

Let's just say that when it comes to me and math....it's like trying to force two opposite magnets together. Math and I DO NOT. GET. ALONG. Like mixing oil and water, fire and ice, or Britney Spears and modesty, some things in this life are just never meant to be together.

Needless to say, during college, my worst grades came from my math classes. The only way I got through Business Calculus, Finite Math, Statistics, Finance, and my Accounting classes was by sitting next to my good friend CD who took pity on me, and was basically my math tutor during my entire college career.

Bless his generocity, patience, and pity. I seriously don't know how he put up with me.

Anyways. That little bit of background info was necessary for the story I'm about to share.

Even though my math classes brought me nothing but pain and sadness during my time in college, I was fortunate enough to have a couple great teachers. Great teachers who knew that the subject they were teaching wasn't the most thrilling topic in the world, so they'd throw in a few personal stories to liven up the class. One of these such teachers was Dr. L.

My favorite story from Dr. L takes us back to his home state of Kentucky. Dr. L grew up in the lovely bluegrass state, but moved out to Oregon later in life. Well, unfortunately, a few years ago, Dr. L had to return home to attend his mother's funeral. Well, funerals, weddings, and births are all basically one big reunion -- you see people you haven't seen in years, and it's a "great" time to reminice about years past, catch up, and make false promises to get together "soon." After the funeral, Dr. L attended the memorial dinner, where he saw people he hadn't seen since his youth. A few times, someone would walk up to him and ask, "Do you remember me?" And, with a touch of regret, he'd answer, "You know, I know that I should know who you are, but since it's been about 20 years, unfortunately I don't. Would you mind just reminding me?" Through this routine, he was able to catch up with his old piano teacher, a coach from high school, and some long-lost friends he hadn't talked to in years.

Later on in the afternoon, a woman walked up and tapped him on the shoulder. As he turned around, she smiled at him and asked, "You don't remember me, do you?" So Dr. L went into his (now well-used) schpeal about how he knew that he should recognize or remember her, but unfortunately it's been a while, could she refresh his memory?

At this point, Dr. L. paused and looked around the classroom, and said 5 chilling words:

"It was my first wife."

The room erupted in laughter as Dr. L. blushed and got a sheepish look on his face. "It had been 20 years!" he yelled, "People's looks change in that amount of time!"

Just one of those moments where you wish floor would open up and swallow you whole, don't you agree?

New Years Interview -- Round 1

2009-08-28T13:23:00.000-07:00

This year, a few days before New Years Eve, I'm traveling to Philly, where I'll meet up with my college girlfriends for a much-needed reunion, and will then proceed to make our way up to New York City for New Years Eve. Now, the plan is not for us to stand in Times Square with 2 million other people, freezing our butts off and heightening the risk of getting mugged, molested, or lost. No, our plan is to find a nice, heated, well-stocked bar, complete with a bathroom, to sit in for the entire night, and watch the ball drop from the comfort of our own table.

Only one minor problem with this: 4 girls. New Years Eve. Booze. Jolly times. What is missing from this picture?

Traditionally, when the clock strikes twelve on new years, every girl is hoping for a New Years Kiss.

And not just from any average joe. Sure, for the small-town girl such as myself, I would definitely shy away from kissing a complete stranger (did they brush their teeth!?), but now that I'm living in the big city (shut UP, Portland is big!) I'm looking to expand my horizons. Within reason.

Therefore, while contemplating this dilemma, my friend Grace came up with a genius solution -- prequalifying interviews! You may think I'm joking, but I can assure you in all honesty that something very similar to the following will happen on their next trip to NYC...or our friend's brother's frat house at Columbia:

You there! BOY!! Come here!! (I feel like talking like an old woman will be best) What are you plans for new years eve? None? Excellent!! How would you like to be guaranteed to have a beautiful older woman to kiss at midnight? Exactly . . . for only one low price of . . . no I kid. Anyway - you need to pass a slight background check of sorts. For starters, you'll be happy to know you've passed the physical appeal test. I picked you out from across the room based on the fact that you were fairly attractive and I couldn't smell you from where I was. Now let me ask you a few questions . . .

- are you single?
- are you ok with just hanging out for a night - no extras unless you get lucky - and no strings? If you become a stage 4 clinger I will have to terminate you!
- when was the last time you cried? If recently was it over a sad movie, from laughing, from actual saddens like a death, or from something sissy like your period?
- Fill in the blank - when a girl says she's cold you . . . (acceptable answers include - give her your coat, wrap your arms around her, buy her a hot drink, buy her a heater, rent her a luxury box somewhere with better/warmer viewing) (incorrect answers include - telling her she should have dressed warmer, informing her that if she were as smart as you she would have dressed warmer, informing her that she's annoying you, or just abandoning her in some form or another)
- Fill in the blank - when you are out drinking with a girl your end goal is to . . . (acceptable answer include - have fun, enjoy yourselves, hope to get a kiss/whatever but let it take a natural progression with only minimal alcoholic involvement, ect.) (incorrect answers include - get her wasted so as to take advantage of her, have her friends get her wasted and then take advantage of her, coerce her friends into abandoning her drunk *ss with you and then taking advantage of her) (other answers that will get you shot on the spot include - slip her something, or offer to pay her something ect.)
- True or False - if a girl is drunk and says she'll figure out a way to get home alone you leave her (FALSE!!! Not only do you not leave her you accompany her home and make sure she is safe and will not die overnight!)
- True or False - in the short, perhaps 8 to 10 hour period we will spend together is it acceptable to discuss our feelings and or have other deep emotional conversations. (Probably not - exceptions can be made but safe to say LEAVE THE BAGGAGE AT HOME WOMAN!!!)

Thank you for you time. Now let me remind you that should you violate any of the Grace's Super Fun rules by being a woman, annoying, PMSy, or other wise a general pain in my ass I will hurt you. Now do not assume your mammoth size will save you. Because I will be in big heels and have a lot of rage. You do not want to see me angry - DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME YOUNG MAN!?!?! (insert death glare here). Now, if we have an agreement . . . yes we will embark on what is guaranteed to be a wonderful night of debauchery in NYC. Now run along . . . but consider yourself warned!! I'll be watching you very closely, so tread lightly, and watch your back.

I think we'll be able to get some good guys, don't you??

Early morning surprise

2009-08-26T14:53:00.000-07:00

I live in Portland, right? The largest city in Oregon, with a metropolitan-population of about 500,000. Lots of people, cars, concrete, noise, and did I mention lots of people? (At least it seems like a lot of people to a girl who grew up in small towns.) Doesn't leave a lot of room for the indigenous wildlife.

So imagine my surprise this morning as I was driving back from the gym at 6am, and about a mile from my house, I stop the car dead in its tracks.

Why, you may ask?

Well, because I'm not a killer. I refuse to intentionally run over a poor, defenseless animal, even if it does look like this:

*Don't worry, I didn't take this picture. This is thanks to Mr. Google.

Yup, I almost flattened an opossum (not to be confused, I've learned, with the possum, which is a much cuter creature that lives in New Zealand). I stopped my car, and the stupid thing still didn't move. I finally inched my car forward, hoping to give it a "healthy" hint, and it finally ambled away into the grass-filled ditch on the other side of the road.

This is now just added to the list of things I've encountered on the road while living in Oregon. I have now seen raccoons, deer, a wolf carcas, and most recently, an opossum.

So much for "escaping nature" by living in the city. I guess those pesky animals didn't read the new zoning ordinances, did they?

Random thoughts for our generation....with social commentary by yours truly

2009-08-24T15:20:00.000-07:00

Random thoughts from people our age...
-I wish Google Maps had an "Avoid Ghetto" routing option. Soooo true. But in Portland, this may be a difficult task to accomplish in some neighborhoods.
-More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can't wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that's not only better, but also more directly involves me. Don’t tell me you haven’t experienced this at one point or another.
-Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong. Or the point where you realize sometime down the road that the other person was right…and you now have to find a sneaky way to do what the other person said, only without them knowing it.
-I don't understand the purpose of the line, "I don't need to drink to have fun." Great, no one does. But why start a fire with flint and sticks when they've invented the lighter? Note: in this case, I’m pretty sure they’re just using a lighter, not the lighter and lighter fluid. Comparison – glass of wine = lighter, AMF = lighter + gasoline.
-Have you ever been walking down the street and realized that you're going in the complete opposite direction of where you are supposed to be going? But instead of just turning a 180 and walking back in the direction from which you came, you have to first do something like check your watch or phone or make a grand arm gesture and mutter to yourself to ensure that no one in the surrounding area thinks you're crazy by randomly switching directions on the sidewalk. Oh sheesh, I do this ALL the time.
-I totally take back all those times I didn't want to nap when I was younger. I still firmly believe that we should adopt Spain’s practice of “la siesta.”
-Is it just me, or are 80% of the people in the "people you may know" feature on Facebook people that I do know, but I deliberately choose not to be friends with? I really don’t want to be “friends” with my friends’ parents, thankyouverymuch.
-Do you remember when you were a kid, playing Nintendo and it wouldn't work? You take the cartridge out, blow in it and that would magically fix the problem. Every kid in America did that, but how did we all know how to fix the problem? There was no internet or message boards or FAQ's. We just figured it out. Today's kids are soft. Who came up with that as the magic cure, anyway? It totally always worked!
-There is a great need for sarcasm font. AMEN!
-Sometimes, I'll watch a movie that I watched when I was younger and suddenly realize I had no idea what the f was going on when I first saw it. Anyone else thinking of Fantasia?
-I think everyone has a movie that they love so much, it actually becomes stressful to watch it with other people. I'll end up wasting 90 minutes shiftily glancing around to confirm that everyone's laughing at the right parts, then making sure I laugh just a little bit harder (and a millisecond earlier) to prove that I'm still the only one who really, really gets it. Well, that, or I’m the only one laughing when everyone else isn’t, and vice versa. I never said that I had a “normal” sense of humor.
-How the hell are you supposed to fold a fitted sheet? I have actually discovered the secret! Years and years of practice, my friends.
-I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in. I’M NOT LAZY, I’M EFFICIENT, DAMMIT!
- I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die. K or Generic, I’m giving this job to you.
-The only time I look forward to a red light is when I’m trying to finish a text. But of course I NEVER text and drive.
- A recent study has shown that playing beer pong contributes to the spread of mono and the flu. Yeah, if you suck at it.
- Was learning cursive really necessary? Honestly!
- Lol has gone from meaning, "laugh out loud" to "I have nothing else to say". It’s a great conversation filler, dontcha think? Lol.
- I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger. Oh goodness, ALL the time. But I think that’s partially due to genetics.
- Answering the same letter three times or more in a row on a Scantron test is absolutely petrifying. Even more terrifying is comparing with your classmates after the test. “Oh you had all A’s? I was getting all C’s…..crap, I must have FAILED!”
- My brother's Municipal League baseball team is named the Stepdads. Seeing as none of the guys on the team are actual stepdads, I inquired about the name. He explained, "Cuz we beat you, and you hate us." Classy, bro.
- Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart". Whatever floats your boat, buddy.
- How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said? My rule of thumb is after 2, sometimes 3. Then it’s their own fault if you don’t understand.
- I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars teams up to prevent a dick from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers! Traffic brotherhood, boo-yah!
- Every time I have to spell a word over the phone using 'as in' examples, I will undoubtedly draw a blank and sound like a complete idiot. Today I had to spell my boss's last name to an attorney and said "Yes that's G as in...(10 second lapse)..ummm...Goonies" Try it with getting really creative and see what people say. “Yes, that’s Kourtney….K as in kamikaze, o as in octagon, u as in ukulele…”
-What would happen if I hired two private investigators to follow each other? AWESOME is what would happen. TV’s next new reality show, perhaps?
- MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. Pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood. With my sense of direction, this isn’t always true….or pretty.
- Obituaries would be a lot more interesting if they told you how the person died. I’ve always thought this!
- I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water. Psh, probably the same people who go for the Polar swim every year. Crazies.
-Shirts get dirty. Underwear gets dirty. Pants? Pants never get dirty, and you can wear them forever. Correction: jeans can get dirty (to the discretion of the wearer). Slacks/pants that require special cleaning never get dirty. Maybe once every few months or as necessary.
Also related –
- "Do not machine wash or tumble dry" means I will never wash this ever.
- I would like to officially coin the phrase 'catching the swine flu' to be used as a way to make fun of a friend for hooking up with an overweight woman. Example: "Dave caught the swine flu last night." “In addition to the H1N1 virus and obesity, a new epidemic is sweeping through the nation…”
-I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired. I believe it was 1992. The days where I still took a nap.
- Bad decisions make good stories. Addendum: after an acceptable amount of time has passed where the battle scars are still visible but the pain is not.
-Whenever I'm Facebook stalking someone and I find out that their profile is public I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who just got the Red Ryder BB gun that I always wanted. 546 pictures? Don't mind if I do! Facebook = stalkerweb
- Is it just me or do high school girls get sluttier & sluttier every year? Psh, not just high school girls. Middle school girls aren’t lookin’ too innocent these days, either. What are their parents thinking!!?
-If Carmen San Diego and Waldo ever got together, their offspring would probably just be completely invisible. Invisible, but with horrible fashion sense. Trench coats and striped shirts…I don’t think so.
-Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from, this shouldn't be a problem.... Icebreakers are evil. Plain and simple.
-Can we all just agree to ignore whatever comes after DVDs? I don't want to have to restart my collection. Honestly, what’s the big difference between DVDs and Blue-Ray? Not big enough to pay an extra $8/movie and re-buy my whole collection, no siree….
-I hate being the one with the remote in a room full of people watching TV. There's so much pressure. 'I love this show, but will they judge me if I keep it on? I bet everyone is wishing we weren't watching this. It's only a matter of time before they all get up and leave the room. Will we still be friends after this?' This also applies to picking a movie to watch. ESPECIALLY on a date. Which none of my dates have seemed to realize the kind of pressure this task provides!
-I hate when I just miss a call by the last ring (Hello? Hello? Dammit!), but when I immediately call back, it rings nine times and goes to voicemail. What'd you do after I didn't answer? Drop the phone and run away?
- I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste. And it always ends up that the days where you put in no effort whatsoever into your appearance, that’s the one day you should have really put in the extra effort.
-When I meet a new girl, I'm terrified of mentioning something she hasn't already told me but that I have learned from some light internet stalking. Define “light”
-I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes. Definitely true.
- As a driver I hate pedestrians, and as a pedestrian I hate drivers, but no matter what the mode of transportation, I always hate cyclists. Anyone else see what happens to cyclists in Portland when road rage is involved? YouTube that video.
-I think the freezer deserves a light as well. Equality for all!
-I disagree with Kay Jewelers. I would bet on any given Friday or Saturday night more kisses begin with Miller Lites than Kay. HAHAHAHAHA.
-The other night I ordered takeout, and when I looked in the bag, saw they had included four sets of plastic silverware. In other words, someone at the restaurant packed my order, took a second to think about it, and then estimated that there must be at least four people eating to require such a large amount of food. Too bad I was eating by myself. There's nothing like being made to feel like a fat-ass before dinner.

It's the little things in life that count

2009-08-19T14:29:00.001-07:00

~ I've read more books for fun in the past 2 months than I've read in the last 4 years. And all because I wanted to, not because I would get tested on it.
~ I find peace simply by taking a walk by myself. If I happen to have a puppy with me, so much the better.
~ Baking brings me inner joy. And sometimes joy (but more often, annoyance) from my co-workers and family who get to sample the goods.
~ Who knew that Gummie Bears could count as a snack for breakfast, lunch, and/or dinner?
~ I love going to the gym and playing volleyball with no pressure whatsoever to do well, other than my own self-drive and pride. Never again will I be subject to a coach and the humiliation/frustration they deal out in droves.
~ Good can come from a broken car. It can be so nice to actually enjoy the wind blowing through the car windows, rather than cranking up the A/C

This post really has no point to it at all. Just had a moment of quiet reflection to realize that I don't need to spend a lot of money or rely on other people for happiness. The way I see it, we have two choices: to live our lives with the glass half-full, or go through life thinking that the world owes us something without working for it. There will be days where you feel like the world is falling apart at the seams, but God never gives us more than we can handle, which is the knowledge I need to get back up, re-evaluate my life, and get going again.

This is my e-mail Inbox

2009-08-13T15:51:00.001-07:00

When you're as close to your sister as I am to mine, you will often get lovely e-mails, filled with love and witty anecdotes and recipes for chocolate cake.

Or...you could have a sister who is a nurse. That's when you get e-mails that start like this:

"Hi! Taking a brief moment from my patient's incessant diarrhea :-)."

Jealous, much? And don't even get me started on the sad tales that I'm lucky enough to hear over the dinner table. For example, a few of the popular topics are:

-- Firehose-power diarrhea
-- Projectile phlegm/loogies
-- Extra appendages....of the male persuasion

And her husband is going to school to be a nurse, too. -sigh-. Definitely a case where "Double the pleasure, double the fun" is NOT a true statement.

Attack of the Hormones

2009-08-12T11:46:00.000-07:00

I can be honest here, right?

I should be able to -- it's my blog after all, and therefore I am it's ruler of the universe and make all the laws, decrees, and sactions that I want to. Because I can, that's why.

Okay, I'm glad we have that taken care of.

Back to my original question -- I can, in fact, be brutally honest here. I can say exactly what's on my mind, even if it differs from the opinions, thoughts, or socially acceptable norms of the rest of the world. What a relief.

Which means that I can say -- HORMONES. ARE. A. BITCH.
(Sorry for my language, mom, but you know it's true).

Today is one of those days where I don't know whether to laugh, cry, scream, or just yell at whoever is unlucky enough to be in the vacinity (which is truly a shame, because I really do like the people I work with). I also get to have the ever-present interal battle of what I want to eat. Meaning I want to eat everything in sight, even more so if it includes a chocolate milkshake and something baked with a lot of sugar and butter, but then I feel fat and bloated and don't want to cave in to the cravings, because honestly, these blasted hormones are not worth the extra cellulite!

GAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.
(wow, sometimes my articulate-ness astounds even me)

3 Things

2009-08-10T16:04:00.000-07:00

I recently read a book where the main character had a good habit that I'm trying to pick up on: every time something unfavorable happened, she made herself think of 3 good things that had happened that were related to the main "bad" thing, and then somehow, the world seemed like a happier place.

Let's give this a try:

I've been casually dating JS* for a few weeks now. I like the guy -- he's great, is fun to hang out with, and seems to have his life together. Only bad thing is that he'll be going back to school in a month, so I'm not holding my breath on a lasting relationship. "Que sera, sera" and all that crap.
Anyways, tonight we were supposed to hang out. We saw each other on Friday, and had a great time, which is partly why I was so excited to hang out again tonight. But, alas, The Man intervened and prevented such a meeting from happening (tonight). Something about "blah blah blah steel girders blah work tonight blah I'M SORRY". At least I can take some comfort in the fact that I'm pretty sure he meant it. But still. It's one of those things where you don't realize how much you're looking forward to something until it doesn't happen.

So now we're trying our own version of home-remedy therapy.

Here goes:

1) I meant to make banana bread last night, but chose to play volleyball instead at 24-Hr. Now I can make some delectable banana bread for my grandmother.
2) This is the same grandmother who had a "no big deal cataract laser eye thing" done today, and who chose not to tell her granddaughter/roommate about, so now I can feel less guilty and go home to take care of my half-blinded grandmother.
3) My toenails are in dire need of a pedicure.

Huh. This isn't as hard as I thought. Might as well shoot for the stars and see how many good things I can think of.

4) I went to the gym last night AND this morning at 4am, just in case we were to go out to dinner at some place where I couldn't get something that was somewhat healthy for me. So now not only am I saving myself probably hundreds of calories, but I can feel better about the cake ball and snickerdoodle cookie that I ate today while I'm at home eating my usual dinner -- brown rice and steamed veggies.
5) "I'm rather fond of walking" (name that movie! One of my personal faves, but that's neither here nor there). Maybe tonight while the banana bread is in the oven and I make sure that my grandma has everything she needs, I can take a quick walk. To burn off some of the calories from the previously-mentioned sweet snacks.
6) I can feel more like the confident, independent, modern woman that I am....while checking my phone every 45 (ok, let's be honest....20) minutes for any texts I may have missed.
7) I can get to bed at a decent time. Since I got up early this morning to go to the gym, I thought that tomorrow would be killer since I wouldn't be getting home until late. Now, I can not only go to bed, but get a full night's sleep and go to the gym tomorrow, too! Even though Tuesday is usually my day off! BOO-YAH I KICK ASS.
8) I'm sure that there is at least an episode or two (or 230587239085) of Ace of Cakes that I really should catch up on. You know, to stay aware of cultural events, like cake decorating art.
9) I just got my hair cut, so I'm still working out how the new hairstyle is working. This gives me at least another day to perfect the new 'do before he sees it for the first time.
10) Hmmm, one more. Uhhh......oh! I BBQ'd some chicken last night, and didn't have time to clean the grill and put the cover back on. IT WILL BE DONE AND I WILL HAVE REACHED A NEW LEVEL OF SELF-ACTUALIZATION.

But I still wish I was going out tonight.

*That "protect the innocent" crap again. Just in case. Not that there's much of a chance that he reads this since he doesn't have internet at home, but ya never know...

One Smart Sassy Cookie

2009-08-05T14:31:00.000-07:00

Can you imagine if everyone in the world judged everything by how it looked?

The homeless guy you see sitting on the corner, begging for money. He might have actually lost his job and everything he had, and has no where else to go.

The designer-sporting socialite wife -- sure, she looks like she has it all and a bag of chips. But is she in a happy marriage? Did her life turn out exactly like she wanted, or nothing like she wanted at all?

A classic (and my favorite) example: Dolly Parton. I mean, look at the woman. She's well-known for her country songs, mega-watt set of pipes, acting career and ample....uh...bosom (-shivers- I hate that word, ugh), but underneath that superficial-looking exterior is a woman who I look at in utter amazement. She started out in the backwoods of Tennessee (literally, with 11 siblings to boot), and grew up looking like a hooker/Barbie doll to become one of country music's biggest icons. Just look at a few of her quotes below, and tell me that she's just a dumb blonde.

~If you don't like the road you're walking, start paving another one.
~I had to get rich so I could afford to sing like I was poor again.
~If you want to see the rainbow you gotta put up with the rain.
~There's a heart beneath the boobs and a brain beneath the wig.
~After Momma gave birth to twelve of us kids, we put her up on a pedestal. It was mostly to keep Daddy away from her.
~I'm not offended by dumb blonde jokes because I know that I'm not dumb. I also know I'm not blonde.
~If I see something saggin', baggin' or dragin', I'm gonna have it nipped, tucked or sucked. (Referring to Plastic Surgery)
~Some of my dreams are so big they would scare you.
~I'll never harden my heart, but I've toughened the muscles around it.
~If there's a heaven, I hope to hell I go!
~It's when you treat people like freaks that you become one yourself.
~I was blessed to have family members who encouraged me to pursue my dreams. Whether it is your parents, or your uncles or your aunts or even the neighbor down the road, it's important that kids have someone who encourages them to chase their rainbow.
~Sometimes you see folks who have a negative view of dreamers - people who sit around all day on their hindquarters and do absolutely nothing. These folks aren't dreamers - they are just lazy. To me, dreaming is just part of being alive, inspired, and curious about the world.
To me, it's about dreaming in the day and in the night. Dreams have always helped me visualize my goals and aspirations. When I was a child, I could see me on stage singing my heart out. I could see what I was wearing and where I was going. I would visit that dream every single day and as I look back, my dreams kept me focused on what I wanted to do and the person I wanted to be.
~I have always been a firm believer in working hard for what is right and for making your own breaks if you want things to change.
~I'm on a seafood diet -- I see food, I eat it.
~I never, ever get involved in politics. With politics you are not allowed to be honest. I don't have time to deal with that. I would rather work with kids.
~[asked about political ambitions] Don't you think we've had enough boobs in the White House?
~On plastic surgery: I'm a proud person. I'm not vain. I look at it like it is. If you've got the money and you're going to be out there, you owe it to people not to look like a dog if you can help it.
~Find out who you are, and do it on purpose.

My "Friends" on the Bus

2009-07-16T14:03:00.000-07:00

Riding public transit is a new experience for me. Before high school, I had never even been on a school bus (small, private Catholic schools usually can't afford or even need a bus system), and before college, the only public transit I had ever used was the Metro system in Washington DC. Sad, I know. In high school, I always had my car, and a private vehicle was a lot more reliable than a bus, especially in agricultural areas, aka the boonies. This being said, my first adventure on the bus was a unique one. I didn't sit next to anyone, and thought that only weirdos rode the bus. I was so thankful when my parents let me have my car at school 2 years later. The rest of my time at school, I avoided taking the bus whenever possible. The MAX system, though, was entirely acceptable. Don't ask me why.
Now that I'm on my own and working downtown, I was faced with a tough choice: either take the time, money, and stress to drive downtown every day and pay for parking (it's $15/day in my building, and $11.50/day across the street -- my job doesn't pay for parking), OOOOOOOOR I could just get a bus pass and take the bus to work everyday. I had it in my mind that the bus was the last possible resort, but after doing the math, I realized that $40/month for a bus pass was the much cheaper way to go (it's actually more expensive than that, but I have an awesome borhter-in-law who has agreed to buy them for me with his student discount).
And so, on my first day of work, I showed up to my bus stop a bit apprehensive of what was to come. The last time I rode a bus, I ended up next to a guy who had an aura about him that made me think he hadn't showered in quite some time, and the time before that, I sat next to a guy who picked his nose and ate it...for the entire ride. See why I wasn't too keen on getting on another bus?
After a while, I've now noticed who the regulars are on my buses. We don't ever really talk to each other, except to say "Good morning!" and maybe comment on the weather. And since I don't know their names and try to pass the time on the bus, I've taken to naming some of them. For example:

Frank: Frank is a nice guy. Somehow, he always manages to arrive just 2 minutes before the bus comes, while I'm always the one standing there for at least 8 minutes. Frank wears a wrist brace for some reason, but seems pretty normal. Plus, he has an OSU backpack that he carries everyday, thus making him above par. Frank is a good guy to sit next to.
Pam: Pam is always on my bus on the way home, rather than in the mornings. She has white hair, and seems pretty nice, even though we don't talk.
Lester: Oh, Lester. He's a mystery to me, but I've started to come up with a life story for Lester, even if it isn't true. Every day, he's on the bus when I get on, and manages to stare at me with icy blue eyes (don't worry, it isn't uncomfortable at all). And every day, he's wearing dirty blue jeans, a jean jacket with the elbows worn out, and his baseball cap. Every day, he gets off at the stop on 17th and McLoughlin, with a 6-pack of cheap beer in a 7-11 bag. Either Lester is the popular guy on the construction site, or he's had something rough happen in his life that leads him to have a relationship with his beer. Since I'm not brave enough to talk to him, let alone ask him about it, I guess I'll never know.
Michelle: Michelle also rides the evening bus, and has some pretty cute clothes, which I could also wear if I was a size 4. She has a tattoo of a paw print on her foot, and is currently reading the 4th Twilight book (Breaking Dawn, one of the better in the series). She's pretty punctual, too.

And then there's me, the girl who usually trips going up the stairs or manages to fall into someone's lap when the bus takes a sharp corner. Riding the bus is always a unique experience.

ABCs of KLK

2009-07-14T11:58:00.000-07:00

A- age: 22
B- bed size: twin (would love to upgrade someday, when I have the space, money, and actual need to)
C- chore you hate: yardwork.
D- don't eat: hmmm, I eat almost anything. But I don't LIKE olives.
E- essential start your day item: coffee/caffeine.
F- favorite board game: Apples-to-Apples. Which I realize isn't technically a board game, but I'm making the rules here, and I say it counts!
G- gold or silver?: both. Depends on the outfit, dontcha know?
H- height: 5'9"
I- instruments you played: piano lessons for 9 years. learned how to play the ukilele in 4th grade, but don't remember how to now. I was also pretty skilled at the recorder. You know you're jealous.
J- job title: receptionist/personal assistant/office administrator.
K- kid(s): zero.
L- living arrangements: living with grandma in milwaukie. it's actually better than you'd think.
M- mom's name: Kellie
N- nicknames: Kourt, Kourts, Kourtsers, Tourts, Kiester, Smart-Ass-Little-Shit (my dad's personal favorite)
O- overnight hospital stay other than birth: none.
P- pet peeve: dirty dishes in the sink.
Q- famous movie quote: "Exercise gives you endorphins. Endorphins make you happy. Happy people don't just kill their husbands. They just don't!"
R- right or left handed?: right
S- sibling(s): 1 amazing (older!) sister and an awesome brother-in-law.
T- time you wake up: gym days: 3:57am, non-gym days: 5:45am, weekends: around 7:30-8am
U- underwear: Preferably thongs.
V- vegetable favorite: Carrots, tomatoes (I know they're techncally a fruit, but whatever), asperagus, bell peppers.....aka lots.
W- ways you run late: spending too much time on Facebook.
X- xrays you've had: teeth, feets, and wrist.
Y- yummy food you make: desserts -- notably Snickerdoodles.
Z- zoo favorite: polar bears or the tubby penguins.

Trapped in a Fishbowl

2009-07-10T16:26:00.000-07:00

At work, my desk is the first thing one sees when entering our office. I'm the receptionist/office administrator/personal assistant extrordinaire, which explains the location of my desk. Our office shares the floor with an engineering/architectural firm, with one of their corridors going right in front of my desk. Now, this wouldn't seem so bad, except that the front doors to our office are made 99.99% of clear glass. So I can see exactly who is walking by, who is going to the bathroom without washing their hands (trust me, I KNOW who you are), and what time people sneak out to go home for the day. Only problem is....they can see me too. No big deal, right?
Kinda.
Not to stereotype, but a good percentage of engineers/architects are men. Some of these men are young and kind of cute. Others are not. One man in particular bugs me a bit, just because my "CREEPER!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!" alarm goes off every time he walks by and looks at me in a way that makes my skin crawl a little. Now I'm sure that he's a perfectly nice gentleman, greatly respected by his peers and subordinates alike, but the too-short shorts, long semi-greasy hair and outright staring start to get on my nerves a bit.
On a happier note, some of the nice neighbor folks have poked their head in and introduced themselves. Do I remember their names? Of course not, which is strange because I'm generally pretty good with names. But they always smile and wave as they walk by.
And this cute guy has been starting to wave....hmmm....
Maybe life in a fishbowl isn't so bad.

Thursday Night Surprise

2009-07-10T10:16:00.000-07:00

Guess what happened at my house last night? I know that when most people come home from work, they like to put up their feet, and have a glass of wine or beer or something. I’m not quite that conventional; my first move when I get home is to dump my junk on the futon, and head out to the garage to get a Healthy Choice Fudgsicle out of the freezer. So imagine my disappointment when I get home last night, head out to the garage, and discover that the freezer door didn’t get shut all the way, because so much ice has built up on the door jam that it prevents the door from shutting all the way. Which means that everything located in the front of the freezer was now a toasty 60 degrees. Including my fudgsicles. I love my abilities to prioritize – I first holler to my grandma that the freezer door wouldn’t shut, and then proceeded to move all the ice cream from the big freezer to the smaller freezer, so that something as wonderful as Tillamook ice cream wouldn’t go to waste. Then I used my new screwdrivers that I got for my birthday to chip away the ice from the door jam so that the door could close and give the food a chance to freeze up again. I don’t think that’s what my mom and dad had in mind when they gave me a fully-stocked toolbox for my birthday, but a girl’s gotta do what a girl’s gotta do.

These Times, They Are A'Changin'

2009-06-15T16:11:00.000-07:00

Today's my birthday.

Yup, you better believe it.

At 2pm, I could officially say that I was 22 years old.

After the hectic busy-ness of my sister's wedding 2 days ago, no one really feels like doing much, other than sitting around, picking our toes, and maybe reading a stray People magazine. I have to work, my parents are getting ready to go home tomorrow, and my sister...well, I know that she has about 2304732089593287 thank-you notes to write. Besides, I had to work, so I didn't expect much. My aunt brought me some flowers and we're going out to dinner tonight, which is really how I wanted to spend my birthday. Well, that and catching up on some much-needed sleep.

But it made me realize how much has changed this year, compared to my birthday a year ago:

1) I'm now a college graduate. Which I suppose means that I'm "grown-up" now, but honestly, I still feel like a stupid, innocent teenager. A stupid, innocent teenager with bills to pay.
2) I'm living with my grandma, while last year, I lived with my other grandparents. What a summer that was. I'm very happy now -- it's almost like living on my own, except that the rent is much cheaper and there are always yummy leftovers in the fridge.
3) My friend Grace was in Philly for the summer.....and now Grace is in Philly, permanently. Huh.
4) Have I mentioned the bills? I have? Yeah, those aren't much fun.

Change is inevitable. Change means progress. Change happens whether we want it to or not. But sometimes, that can be a good thing.

I guess I can look at this as I'm now one year closer to being able to rent a car. Yippee!

Wedding Bliss

2009-06-15T15:44:00.000-07:00

This is my sister and her new husband.

I do believe that I have the most beautiful, stunning, gorgeous, blushing-bride sister in the world.

And my brother-in-law ain't a bad-lookin' dude, either.

Love you both! Congrautlations!

Well, at least you haven't done a face-plant in a urinal!

2009-06-10T12:57:00.000-07:00

Think you're having a bad day?

Want to complain about it to anyone who will listen?

Because that's how I usually handle bad days.

But isn't that what family and friends are for? To be there for you, in the good times, the bad times, and all the other ones in-between?

My friend Grace* is one of those people I turn to whenever I need to vent about something. Vent, emotionally vomit, squeal with joy -- you name it, Grace has been there with me all the way. We especially like to lament to each other about stupid things that we honestly don't have any control over, but still like to complain about, just to feel like we aren't alone in the world.

One day a few weeks ago, I was writing an e-mail expressing my current discomfort in how busy I was, or something or other. Doesn't really matter, I guess. Point is, I was complaining about something honestly not that bad, but still felt that my voice needed to be heard. The response I got back from Grace was one I don't think I'll ever forget: her mom is a substitute teacher out in Boston. The day before, she was helping one of her students on to the bus, when all of a sudden, apparently he needed to....use the facilities. Being an elementry school, you can't just let students wander off on their own, especially after school hours. So Grace's disgrunted Mom (who just wanted to go home like the rest of us would, I'm sure) helped this little boy back to the restroom. Somehow, in the 3 minutes it would take to use the facilities, Grace's mom hears a wailing noise in the bathroom, and rushes in to investigate. Because how much harm can honestly come to a child in an elementry-school bathroom? When she enters the bathroom, she finds the little boy on the floor, with blood covering his face. It seems that somehow, whether he tripped or just wasn't paying attention (maybe a shiny object?), he managed to hit his face on the urinal. No details as to where his face landed on the urinal (I shudder at the thought), but that shiny piece of porcelin nonetheless. Which teaches me a very valuable perspective on life:

No matter what happens, at least you didn't do a face-plant in a urinal!

*Name has been changed to protect the innocent. Or just because I didn't ask if she would mind if I used her real name. Better safe than sorry, I always say

My Purse, My Suitcase

2009-06-08T16:50:00.000-07:00

I’m generally a clean, fairly organized person. I make my bed every day, my sink is generally void of dirty dishes, my DVDs are neatly stacked, and the coffee grounds are washed out of the coffee maker every morning. In a normal world, this would indicate that nearly every aspect of my life is clean, organized, and void of clutter/junk-free.

Until you looked at my purse.

Now, I, like most other women, hate carrying a large bag, because the bigger it is, the more you can fit in it, and then logically, the heavier it is. How on God’s green, magnificent Earth I manage to get some of the stuff in there I haven’t a clue, but somehow it always does. And the sad thing is, I actually use most of these items, on a weekly, if not daily, basis. I can’t even imagine the horror that my purse is going to be once I have kids and a husband someday.

Here are a few things that I usually have in my purse at any given moment:

-- My wallet, weighted down with coins and old Fred Meyer and Target receipts (not to be confused with the random change and Fred Meyer and Target receipts wandering around the inside of my purse)
-- Bobby pins, taken out of my hair from the day before, because frankly I didn’t like that style anymore.
-- A padlock, to be kept on my locker at the gym. It would never occur to me to leave it at the gym. That would just be too logical.
-- Earrings, worn the day, week, or month before that I have worn sometime in the recent past, that usually I spend about 10 minutes looking for the day I want to wear them, only to realize that I left them in a purse, gym bag, my car, etc.
-- A wide variety of Trident or Orbit gum wrappers, some with old gum inside them (like you don’t have that in your purse or random pocket, either?)
-- My camera. You never know when you’re going to come across the perfect sunset, the perfect pair of shoes you need some helpful input on, or a fender-bender in need of some concrete documentation.
-- Sunglasses. I’m forever squinting in the sunlight….or even when it’s not that bright outside.
-- iPod. Because nowadays, it’s just what you do.
-- Flash drive. It’s come in handy fairly often. Most recently to transfer my copy of Midnight Sun onto my computer from my old job.
-- Lip gloss. You name it, I got it. My current favorite is my old standby of Vanilla-Mint Chapstick, closely followed by Bath&BodyWorks’ Vanilla Soda Fountain lip shine. It’s sticky, but it works like a dream. You can bet it’ll be present at my sister’s wedding on Saturday.

Ten years (or more) down the road, I’m sure that I’ll hear the phrase, “Mom, your purse is HEAVY!!!” and be brought back to those young years when I said the same thing to my mom. Who, I’m still convinced, insisted on packing along bricks in her purse for whatever shopping trip we were on. Because you just never know when something like that will come in handy.

Random Thoughts

2009-06-08T15:42:00.001-07:00

Right now, there are exactly 3 people in my office. I'm one of those three. The other two are on their phones, and my phone doesn't ring. There's no work for me to do. Which leads me to let my mind wander onto more pressing, important thoughts and ponderisms which I'm so generously going to share. Because honestly, I have nothing better to do:

1) T minus 5 days until my sister's wedding. And I still haven't written my MOH toast (see previous post -- no rhyme-pun intended). I just don't FEEL like writing it! Oh, I've thought about it for a while over the past few weeks or so, and I now have a vague outline as to what I want to say, but when it comes to actually putting it down on paper and then practicing it so that I don't mispronounce something or sound like an idiot? I don't waaaannnnnnnnna.

2) To go down to the cafeteria and get a granola bar, or not to get a granola bar -- that is the question.

3) I have a blister on the pinky toe of my right foot, due to marching 16 blocks and back to the library during my lunch break. For a 32-block treck in 25 minutes in 3-in. heels, that ain't bad.
And that blister kinda hurts. And I've looked at Target for those cute little discreet footie nylons that other people wear in their heeled shoes, but guess what? Due to my lovely genetics, they don't make them in my size. And supposedly their "One Size Fits All!" approach hasn't seen the likes of my feet, because they should know that a size 11.5 foot doesn't exactly fall in the same category as the size 6 foot.

4) I'm having a very important internal debate (almost as important as the granola bar question, which I still haven't decided on): where do I take K to get her nails done? I don't want to be a cheapskate, but jeez, I'm not made of money, either! But then it comes down to the argument of "You should be willing to do anything for your sister!" and the argument of "You aren't made of money!!!" Sheesh. Plus, did you know that if you Google "Portland nail salons," it'll spit about 300 results at you? Try narrowing that down.

5) I keep thinking of things I'd rather be doing if I weren't here at work: like trying out one of the bazillion recipes that I've found. Of course, that's assuming that I have the money to buy all the necessary items, have the time to cook them, and have the extra room on my hips to allow for the fat and calories that would undoubtably take up residence after I ate said recipes.

6) I would really like to take a photography class. I don't have the world's best $1,000 camera, but the one I have isn't half bad, and I'd really like to take pictures like The Pioneer Woman (www.thepioneerwoman.com). Of course, I'd need the $1,000 camera, a few cattle and a hunky cowboy or two to complete the picture. But let's start small, shall we?

7) I can't wait until we get wedding pictures back so that I can see how beautiful my sister is going to look. But then I guess we'd better have the wedding first, right?

I'm breaking down -- going to get that granola bar.

Wait, I have to do WHAT?!

2009-05-22T11:07:00.000-07:00

My sister is getting married in 3 weeks and 1 day. That fact alone sends a chill down my spine. I mean, it's not a bad thing that she's getting married, but just the fact that it's my sister -- the girl that I used to play dress-up with and who still dances around her house singing Mandy Moore songs with a wooden-spoon microphone. Good thing John likes aaalllllll kinds of music.

We had the bridal showers last week and the week before that. Now, I love my sister dearly, but goodness gracious, throwing a shower is a lot of work! Plus we drove down to Klamath for one a few weeks ago, which takes up an entire weekend. If there's one thing that all of this madness has taught me, is that now I know I want a small wedding. Keep it nice and simple. Means we can spend more money on the ring, right? Or at least go on a kick-butt honeymoon. But at least I've already warned K that she's planning my wedding, so maybe it won't be as bad. Not that I have any reason to worry about that right now....or anytime in the near future.

But anyways. Along with all the last-minute preparations, the organizing, the planning, the scheduling, the crunch-time workouts at the gym to lose those extra pounds you meant to lose 2 months ago, I realized something. I have to give a speech. As MOH (Maid of Honor), I've know this for a while -- just like I knew I'd be there for K with all her pre-wedding jitters and panic attacks, but it was always something that would happen eventually; there was no need to worry about it right now. But now I'm realizing, I have 3 weeks and 1 day to come up with a speech. A good speech. One that shows I'm a compassionate person who loves my sister and new brother-in-law and who is making the whole room dabb sentimental tears from their eyes. At the same time, it needs to be a speech that is making people laugh through those tears at my wonderful whit and charm. K wants it funny, Mom wants it sentimental...I'm just hoping that I'm not standing up there breathing into the microphone like some creeper hearing nothing by my own mental screaming and crickets in the ballroom.

I can see it now...

"This is a very special day for all of us, to be able to witness the wonderful union of two people we all love and cherish..."
--Nah, too preacher-sounding. Plus I'm sure that before the sentence was even finished people would already be nodding off to sleep.

"So, we never thought that this day would EVER come!"
--I think I'd get murderous glances from K and J for this one...not to mention how cheesy it sounds.

"Well, I guess that I'll have to change my perspective on internet dating...."
--Oh goodness, this is just going down-freaking-hill FAST.

I'm not that bad at public speaking -- I'm really not. I gave the toast as MOH at my best friend's wedding, and that went just fine. But this is my sister. Gotta make it special.

Hopefully it'll end up being memorable in a good way!

My Stainless Steel Security Blanket (aka my Thermos)

2009-04-14T14:03:00.000-07:00

I rely quite heavily on my Thermos. And it’s not just any, run-of-the-mill thermos, or one that you pick up on the clearance rack at K-Mart. Oh no, this baby is one fine quality piece of work. My mom gave it to me the Christmas before my Freshman year of college, and was so excited about it – she even got my name engraved on it. At the time, I didn’t really see the point. I didn’t drink coffee, I rarely drank cocoa, and honestly, who eats soup out of a thermos anymore? Eespecially when I could just go to the school cafeteria and get some there? I thanked her for it, and then used it maybe once my freshman year.
Then I went to Europe, and my whole Thermos-using perspective changed.
In Europe, I was living on little sleep, and everyone drinks coffee. I quickly learned that over there, a Diet Coke (excuse me, Coke Light) just wasn’t gonna cut it. I was already used to drinking sugary coffee drinks like Mocha’s and Frapaccino’s, but black coffee? Fuhgetaboutit. But when you’re in a strange country, staying at a hostel for 16 Euros/night, and the free breakfast they serve is a croissant and a cup of espresso, it’s amazing what you can choke down. And you know, to my utter amazement, I learned to love coffee. Not just love, but have a strong dependency on. Others have learned to recognize my dependency, too. Whenever I go home to visit, my lovely mother makes sure that there is a bottle of Sugar-Free French Vanilla Coffee Mate in the fridge and ready to go for when I stumble into the kitchen in the mornings.
Over the past 2 years, I’ve reached a minimum amount of coffee that I need to have in a day (or a certain amount of caffeine) in order to remain headache-free. I have it measured out perfectly. One large travel mug of coffee, and one Thermos full of coffee, which gives me about an additional travelmug and a half. I don’t like making coffee at work, and I refuse to pay the $3 – something per day to buy a coffee, so that Thermos remains vital to the outcome of my day. I get a sort of relaxing satisfaction when I go to open my Thermos, hear the popping of the leak-proof seal, and see that wonderful little stream of steam billowing out of the opening. I pour it into my mug, knowing that it’s just as hot as when I pulled it off the coffee maker two hours before. And as I sit with my travel mug in my hands, and my Thermos down by my feet, I am content with the knowledge that my caffeine intake has been fulfilled for the day, and that the sun will shine a little brighter for the rest of the day.
Not that I can see that shining sun – my office is windowless. But I know it’s there!

Wow, It's been a while

2009-04-13T13:04:00.000-07:00

Through my new job at a distribution warehouse, I’m learning things that I never thought would enter my arsenal of bread/chip/cookie/coffee-related knowledge. Like did you know that Easter officially starts the busy season for hot dog and hamburger buns? Neither did I, until a few weeks ago. However, this date depends on the weather, which as we know in Oregon, is as varied as….well, as varied as Oregon weather. Last weekend was the first sunny weekend of the year, with temperatures reaching the low-70s. Which means that everyone decided that it was the perfect opportunity to have a BBQ to celebrate the glorious weather. Therefore, on Monday, our office was swamped with stores scrambling to restock their hamburger and hotdog bun supplies. Today being the Monday after Easter, we expected the same thing. However, I’m discovering that it’s quiet. Too quiet. The kind of quiet where it’s the calm before the storm, and in two weeks, you’re going to look back on this time with fondness, and annoyance that you didn’t appreciate the down/quiet time while you had it. Which may explain the thunder storms in the weather forecast...

Ahhh, the joys of the working world.

Seriously, Karma?

2009-03-25T11:26:00.000-07:00

For the past two days, I feel like Karma is seriously trying to mess with me. There have been so many things that seriously were about to drive me over the edge, but then something else happens to make it not so bad. Yesterday morning started out pretty good. I actually got out of the house on time, and didn't hit much traffic. But then when I was at a red light about a half mile from work, I saw steam billowing out from under my hood. PEACHY. So because I had no idea what's wrong, or even what kind of things could be going wrong under the hood of my car, I basically coasted to work (because I didn't want to press on the gas and have my car explode or something equally as heinous) and called my parents in a panic. But then in a stroke of genius, I realized that I happen to work at a shipping company that has an in-house shop, with an in-house mechanic. So I basically ran in, introduced myself to the mechanic, and then proceeded to beg him to take a look at my car. So bless his big greasy hands, he looks at it, and replaced my radiator tank for the price of parts only. So for $63.82, I was able to get a new radiator tank, which would have easily cost me (or my parents, since they're taking care of all the maintenance on my car til I graduate and it becomes officially mine) $100+ at a regular garage, once you add in labor costs. So then he came up a few hours later and shows me a picture that he took on his phone of my battery cables, which are covered in an icky green gunk, and tells me that he'll replace my battery cables for like $5!!! SWEET!!! I’m sure that those cables would have been a pain in my backside sooner or later, so I’m glad that he found them now, instead of discovering it when my battery is dead and I really have a place to go.
In order to thank this fine mechanic, I decided to do what all Kiest girls do when someone needs thanking – you bake them something. Our mechanic is a diabetic, so I even took the time to go online and find a low-sugar recipe for him so that I wouldn’t be responsible for sending him into a sugar shock or whatever happens when a diabetic gets too much sugar. I go to bake the cookies, and realize that I need salt…and the proceed to find that all we have left in our pantry is stupid sea salt. Yuck. But oh well, it didn’t seem too bad, and it was only ¼ of a teaspoon. But then in all of my spaziness, I forgot to set the timer for the second batch of cookies. So I was in my room eating my dinner and trying to get ready for work today, and I started to wonder why I hadn’t heard the timer go off. So I check on the cookies to find that they now had the consistency of hockey pucks. That was the first batch of cookies that I have ever REALLY burnt in my life, which was just depressing. So Ron only got about 10 cookies, but I think he liked them so that’s what counts.

So Karma continues to laugh in my face when I finally get in bed, and forget to set my alarm clock. And I haven’t been sleeping that well in the first place, so I roll over this morning and see that it’s 6:56am – and my alarm is supposed to go off at 6:30am. LOVELY. So I race around like a madwoman, thankful that I have my mother’s preparation skills and have most of my stuff ready the night before, and race out of the door. I timed it – I am now aware of the fact that I have the ability to get ready in exactly 24 minutes – and that includes shoving down a bowl of oatmeal. To add on top of that, it’s pouring, which doesn’t mean much except to put me in a more negative mood. Plus I get to mail my parking ticket explanation in the mail, which just makes me mad that I got the stupid ticket in the first place. Also, there is just so much drama going on in all areas of my life that I just get bogged down with it. And then with days like today, I overanalyze everything (not that you do that, right? Or am I the only one?) And then the e-mail from our UP President that says a classmate was found dead in his apartment is just plain depressing.

I know that this isn’t the happiest blog post, but according to the weatherman, the sun will come out tomorrow J

Oh, The Joys of Life

2009-03-06T14:35:00.000-08:00

Sometimes, I envy that headless chicken – you know the one, where someone who is beyond stressed says, “I’ve been running around like a chicken with its head cut off!”

If only the craziness in my life were that calm.

Honestly speaking, and comparing to other people who I’m sure are far more stressed than I am, my life is pretty good, although stressful on my own levels of measure. I remember during my senior year in high school, all seniors were required to take Senior Health, where we learned all about the human body (learning reproduction for the 18th time, anyone?), healthy lifestyles, blah blah blah. Mostly stuff that we’d heard before. Although one day, we learned about the negative side effects that can occur with high amounts of stress.

“OK, everyone, today you’re going to take a test that evaluates your own levels of stress based on events that have happened in the last year. Then, after you’re through, we’ll compare scores among the class.”

Apparently, there are different categories or levels that you can fall under, based on your score, that tells you the likelihood of having a serious stress-related injury in the next year.

After taking the test, it was determined that I had one of the highest scores in the class, and that I had over a 75% chance of having a stress-related health risk in the next year. Of course, I wasn’t surprised by this news: that year, I was moving out-of-state with my parents after graduation, then getting ready to move to a new city and start college, my grandfather was terminally ill with colo-rectal cancer and we knew he was sliding downhill rather quickly, and I had at least 2 other close family members with serious health problems.

Needless to say, in regards to addressing and sending graduation announcements, cleaning out my house and packing said house, saying good-bye to high school friends and mentally preparing myself to make new ones in a new town, starting a new job in a new town where I had no friends and didn't know anyone outside my family and my dog, and then trying to adjust at a new school, in addition to the worry over my ill family members – yeah, its no wonder I had one of those high scores.

However, I knew that “this too shall pass,” and I wasn’t too worried. I thought that once I moved, started college, and my family problems died down, my stress level would return to normal, and I would return to my happy-go-lucky self, whose biggest worry was that I wouldn’t meet any cute boys at college and that my parents would turn my room into a home gym or something.

As you probably guessed it, that dream didn’t last long. By my second year of college where I had 6 midterms in one week, 3 times during the course of the semester, I was literally having panic attacks on the phone to my mother multiple times per month, who did her best to calm me down, and assure me that no, the world was not going to end if I didn’t get 100% on this test.

(Just for a bit of background info, I only got one B+ in high school, and that was my physics class. I graduated with a 3.95 GPA, which I was very proud of. However, it also gave me an unrealistic opinion as to my own IQ, which was challenged the minute I stepped foot on my college campus and realized exactly how many more people are smarter than me….by a LOOOONG shot.)

Over the past three and a half years since I’ve graduated from high school and taken that eye-opening stress test, I’ve gone back and found the same kind of stress test on the internet, and even took the same one during my Human Resource Management class. And as a matter of fact, my life is still overly stressful – at least according to those smart psychiatrists who make the tests in the first place.

So long story short (a lot of my posts end this way – sorry about that), I’ve gotten quite comfortable with the fact that I will probably always have a 80%+ chance of incurring a stress-related injury for the next year…for the rest of my life. It hasn’t happened in the last three and a half years since high school, but I’ll keep you updated if anything changes.

Maybe I should take up Yoga…although I’m sure that while you’re supposed to practice deep breathing and cleansing of the mind, I’ll be thinking about the one thing I simply cannot forget to pick up at Fred Meyer this week.

Questions on the job

2009-03-05T21:50:00.000-08:00

After 4 months of arduous searching, daily visits to Craigslist, my school’s website, and the OregonLive! website, I finally found a job, something that isn’t easy to come by in the current economic state we’re in. But God bless my contact at my temp agency (one of the many I applied to) who found me a position at a local distribution warehouse and got me an interview. After 3 trips to their Clackamas location, 2 interviews, and a lot of nerve-controlling chocolate, I landed myself an entry-level job in their offices as their new Customer Service Order Processing clerk.

I’ve never been so happy to delete shortcuts from my IE Favorites menu. Farewell Craigslist, OregoneLive!, Jobdango, Monster Careers, and school site. Good riddance, more like it.

Sorry. I just need a moment to revel in that.

Anyway, so I started my job yesterday. Man, I was prepared….at least at home. I had already decided what I was going to wear (in order to skip the 20-minute ordeal of standing in front of my minuscule closet, lamenting over the fact that I have nothing to wear), I had packed my healthy lunch (is it a faux pas to bring your lunch to work in an American Eagle bag?), and had the coffee pot ready to go for the next morning. I almost forgot to set my alarm clock for the ungodly hour of 5:45, but maybe that was just my subconscious rebelling against getting up that early. Which for a previously recent college grad who was sleeping in until 9 every morning, is pretty early. I walked in the door 10 minutes early with homemade cookies in hand, all in the attempt to make a good impression on the first day. We’ll see how long that lasts.

(Just kidding, Mom. I know you raised me better than that. I think.)

So for the next week, I’m just trying to learn the ropes of the discount dry-goods business. We distribute lots o’bread, those tasty pies from Safeway, bread, chips, and coffee. All the stuff that I love and is just kinda bad for you. This job doesn’t seem half as complicated as the insurance industry (my last office job, which made me realize my deep and passionate hatred for insurance of any kind), and the biggest problem that I’ve seen so far is that a few boxes of potato chips that were labeled “Rippled” were actually “Plain.” I can deal with catastrophes like that. Fires, semi-trucks stranded on a highway, and physical harm usually cause an unnatural spike in my blood pressure.

Not to mention the amount of tedious paperwork that always accompanies those kinds of catastrophes.

But the one thing that I hate when starting a new job is not knowing anything. I know that no one expects me to know anything, but I simply hate asking a question every 3 minutes, no matter how legitimate it is. People know that I don’t know the names of all our drivers, or product listings, or who to call when one of the garage doors doesn’t work. I’m usually a pretty independent person who can figure things out on my own, but this new kind of environment is completely befuddling to me.

I can’t believe I just used the word befuddling. I apologize.

I’ll start my formal training next week, the training that will be useful to the actual job that I’ll be doing, in my very own office. Until then, I’m more than happy to answer the phones, put together drug testing procedure binders, and send out a million faxes.
Because that’s the stuff I can do without asking too many questions. J

Oh ONLY in Oregon

2009-02-26T09:28:00.001-08:00

Only in Oregon can you go from beautiful sunshine to monsoon rains, from hail to snow, all in the course of 24 hours. Not only is the weather messing around with your immediate surroundings, but it also messes with your head. I mean, you wake up, all sleepy eyed and out of it, and then you see that gorgeous sunshine, and your daily perspective immediately changes. Well, mine does, anyway. And then when you look out the window a few hours later and it’s pouring down rain, you feel a bit down, simply because it isn’t pretty outside anymore. Totally throws you off, man!

Don’t get me wrong – Oregon is amazing. Just wish the weather wouldn’t be so temperamental.

So imagine how confused I was when I woke up to both sunshine AND a layer of snow on my car this morning.

PEACHY.

Puppy Fix

2009-02-23T16:05:00.000-08:00

All my life, I’ve grown up with a dog in my family. Our first dog, a cocker spaniel named Jasmine died when I was 8, and I was devastated. Which is strange, considering she was inbred, and therefore a little crazy. The daily chore I shared with my sister was to feed Jasmine every morning. And every morning that it was my turn to feed her, my dad had to go out with me to hold the dog back so she wouldn’t eat me alive when I put the food down.

Yeah, she was a bit nuts.

But despite all her faults, she was the family pet that I was born with, so I cried for a month after she died. Then my family moved from Oregon to Eastern Washington, and that kind of transition was difficult for all of us to deal with. Soon after we moved, my older sister and I started begging for a dog. Like next-level-over-the-top begging. Our mom took the defensive stance when this subject always came up – “Girls, you’ll have to go talk to your father about this.” So of course, we would go to my dad and beg in the way that only Daddy’s little girls can beg. But then after a while without any results, we resorted to playing dirty. Or at least a new tactic that was sure to get his attention. Subtle like a freight-train was our objective.

Our dog breed of choice was a Labrador. As a family, we had decided this, but my parents were very particular about the kind of lab we could get. It had to be the right size, it couldn’t come from a kennel, it had to be purebred, yadda yadda yadda.

So my sister and I wrote out probably 30 notes – things such as “Labs make great family pets,” and “A dog takes away family stress,” and “Your daughters really want a puppy.” We put these notes everywhere. They were wrapped around his toothbrush and razor, they were put inside his boating magazines, in his daily lunch that he would take to work, on his pillow and in his sock drawer.

And you know, after about 2 weeks of this bombardment, he finally got down to finding a dog. We drove out to a house about 45 minutes away, where a young girl had bred her purebred chocolate lab for her 4-H project, which resulted in 9 adorable black lab puppies. We ended up taking home the runt of the litter, a tiny thing that we named Sadie.

For the past 13 years, Sadie has been an integral part of our lives. It’s the family joke that she’s the “third sister,” since she’s the only one still at home with my parents. When I left for college, I went through major puppy withdrawals, since I usually used Sadie as stress-relief. Since my parents were about 300 miles away, it wasn’t exactly easy to get my stress relief.

So, I had to improvise. For the past 3 years, whenever I get really stressed, I go down to the mall and spend some quality time at Scamps, our local pet store. Just holding and playing with a puppy does amazing wonders for my stress level and blood pressure.
Because you were never stressed in college, right?

I mean, how could you NOT be more relaxed after seeing this face?

These puppies don’t do any justice to replacing the feeling I get when I’m with Sadie, but at least it’s a temporary fix. It just makes my time at home with Sadie all the more special.

God's Country

2009-02-22T13:58:00.000-08:00

Since my parents are mainly the ones that read this blog so far, my dad was greatly disappointed by yesterday’s topic of how great Portland is. Unlike myself, my dad um.....greatly dislikes the city. He grew up in Portland, and was more than happy to get away from it to live in a small town in southern Oregon. A town that he has deemed “God’s Country.” Every time I go to visit, he tries to get me to move there, away from Starbucks, shopping malls, rush hour traffic, and metropolitan culture. When I try to explain to him the wonderfulness of sunrises over the West Hills, or one-stop shopping, his comeback is always, “But Kourtney, this is God’s country.” Which basically trumps everything good I ever say about Portland.

So yesterday, I met with him for lunch at the airport during his business trip layover. While eating sushi (something else that isn’t exactly common in southern Oregon’s version of Mayberry), he looked over my blog, and then proceeded to show me pictures from our time at home this Christmas.

“But Kourtney, look at this picture!! You can’t go out on an ATV and shoot a gun in Portland!”

“And look at this sunset over the lake! You don’t have that in Portland!”

“And OUR mayor isn’t on national news!!! Beat that!”

Yeah, my father (and I) have strong opinions on Portland-esque liberal politics. Which is one of the major reasons he wanted to get out of Portland in the first place.

But anyways, in honor of my father, and to be fair to how beautiful southern Oregon is, here are some pictures of the other side of my life. The life of relaxation, nature, and small-town appreciation.

How do I love Portland? Let me Count the Ways…

2009-02-21T11:09:00.000-08:00

I grew up in small towns in the Pacific NW my whole life – this area is beautiful. Where else in the US can you find rainforest, mountain national parks, amazing beaches, and pristine lakes, all within a few hours of each other?

^^View of Portland and Mt. Hood ^^Early morning fog on the beach

As pretty as growing up in the country is, I’ve always been a city girl. Most of my family is based out of Portland, and I’ve been visiting Portland my whole life. I remember driving over the river at night, and seeing the city all lit up…..almost brought a tear to my eye to see a place that had more than 5 stoplights.

Anyways, I digress.

Point is, if you’re ever visiting Portland, there are a million different things to do. Unfortunately, I never discovered this until I was able to leave my college campus and thus had the ability to get out of my college campus bubble. And after growing up in small towns, Portland is the perfect-sized city for me. It has a very small-town feeling in Oregon’s largest city. Everything is within a 30 minute drive (without traffic of course. Unfortunately, anytime you want to drive somewhere, you should add at least 15 minutes to account for the random accident or overturned semi on the freeway), and the beaches, mountains, and lake are all within an hour of the city.

For example, Portland is host to OMSI (the Oregon Museum of Science and Industry, one of my favorite places to visit as a kid), the Oregon Zoo (which is home to one of the world’s leading elephant breeding programs), the Portland Trail Blazers NBA team (#4 in the Western Conference!), Forest Park (one of the West’s largest urban city parks), plus Portland is the headquarter city for Nike, Adidas, and Intel. Not to mention the fabulous shopping areas…..and not having to pay sales tax. That’s a big motivation factor for me.

Portland is growing on the national map, too. Did you know that the newly-released movie Coraline was produced by Phil Knight (owner of Nike), using one of Portland’s own up-and-coming production studios? The movie Twilight was also filmed in and around Portland. And older classics such as Free Willy, Goonies, Stand By Me, The Ring, and The Shining were all filmed in and around Portland. Rumor has it that Twilight’s Robert Pattinson used to hang out in downtown areas such as Powell’s bookstore during filming downtime.

Until recently, I never knew about half of the things I could do in Portland. Well, actually when I reached my senior year of college and had nothing better to do on weekends than homework, I finally had my motivation to get out and explore. The Internet is always a great resource, but I was able to pick up a free copy of Urban Pages, which is basically a city guide that highlights every area/neighborhood of the metropolitan area. Now, if I ever find myself with nothing to do, I just open that up to a random page and try to find something that I can do for cheap. With the current economy, price is one of my main factors to consider, and Portland has some really good deals for people on a tight budget.

Long story short, my city is pretty cool. And I didn’t know about half of the things it had to offer until I finally got up and tried to find something to do. Which is apparently a lot easier than I had anticipated.

So go find something new to do today!

Good with names, not so good with creative ones

2009-02-20T12:01:00.000-08:00

I consider myself to be pretty good with names. I can probably name all the kids in my first grade class, the kid who sat in the back of the room during my Intro to Literature class during my sophormore year at college, and the name of the secretary at my high school. Even if I meet someone once, I can still generally remember their first name and the time and place that we first met.

Creative names, like titles of school papers or soccer team names......not so much.

Which is why this blog, my very first blog to be exact, has such a creative name. Knowing myself, I'll probably think of something at the most random time, not write it down, and then forget about it the next day, but whatever.

For now, it's Welcome to my World. Not very creative, and I can't promise that it'll be interesting, but it's my life, and I'm choosing to share it.

Sincerely yours, for now,

~Kourtney